


Psychopathology

by Shayne



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, F/F, Original Character(s), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 205,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayne/pseuds/Shayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They went after an UnSub, but the UnSub was coming for one of them. When one of their own is taken, how far will the rest of the team go to make things right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Psychopathology

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters. I wish I did, because it's an amazing show and Paget Brewster and A.J. Cook are great, but...  
> SPOILERS: None too specific. General plot points and such from across seasons two and three.  
> ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author. This has been posted on FF.net under Artemis' Bow and Passion and Perfection (ralst.com) under Kyandralin. If you want to post this on your site, just ask. I'll probably say yes, but I do want to know where it is.

_Psychopathology_ : The scientific study of mental disorders

**Date and Time: February 10, 2008, 16:17**

**Location: Ranch House Belonging to Jonah Samis, 20 Miles Southwest of Morgantown, West Virginia**

"FBI!"

With no more warning than that, SWAT busted the door open, clearing rooms as they went. Hotchner and Morgan followed, their eyes searching and assessing, adding what they saw to the profile.

"Agents, in here!" a SWAT agent called, and the two men followed the sound of a scuffle to the back exit, where he and Rossi were facing off with a middle-aged man holding a gun to a young woman's head, an almost obscene smile on his face.

"Ah, the BAU of course. So little Emily wasn't lying. What a pity I didn't know before."

Rossi didn't visibly react, except to tighten his grip on his gun, but Morgan's eyes flared with barely controlled rage and Hotch's face, already intense, turned to stone. When JJ entered with another SWAT agent, he turned, and the two supervisors noticed a gash and a bruise marring one side of his face. They were both hoping Prentiss had caused it, although they wouldn't say it. To their consternation, the man laughed, his finger twitching on the trigger of his gun.

"Are you FBI too, little girl?" he asked, his eyes raking over her. Morgan saw the look in them too and scooted closer to the blonde, ready and willing to protect her with his life if he had to. It was bad enough they-he-had failed Prentiss. He wouldn't fail JJ too.

"JJ, stay behind me," he murmured, and the blonde glared, then started when the UnSub laughed again, this time with more mirth, and more malice.

"So you're JJ. Now that is interesting."

"And why might that be?" Rossi asked coolly, giving Hotch a quick look, getting a slight nod in return. If he had nothing else with this team, he knew he could always count on Aaron Hotchner to know what he was thinking. The hawk-like agent shifted slightly to the side, giving JJ a telling look. She understood too.

"Well," the completely unremarkable man replied, clearly relishing the whole situation, "if one of those J's stands for 'Jennifer,' you would be the one little Em was begging to save her when I tortured her."

He took in JJ's stunned, terrified look, Morgan's impotent rage and overwhelming guilt, and Rossi's stoicism with a laugh reminiscent of a child that had just been given his favorite treat. Hotch reflected on what he had said, taking in the various implications. He had known that Jonah Samis had been an associate of Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss, so that was no big surprise. What did take him off guard was the glee the man displayed at the mention of torture and in seeing JJ's expression. He was curious about that too, of course, but he wasn't going to say anything. He would bide his time, but he knew he didn't have much.

"She refused to scream, you know," Samis went on, his green eyes fixed on JJ's blue, clearly not wanting to miss a moment, "She bit her lip until it bled. No matter what I did to her she just... wouldn't scream. She should have known better. If she had screamed it would have all been over."

Prentiss had known that, Hotch decided. If she had shown how much pain she was in, the sexual sadist would have been done with her, and on to the next victim. Mentally he applauded her, and hoped he would have a chance to congratulate her.

"When she finally passed out from the agony, starvation, and dehydration," Jonah was saying, and Hotch refocused, refusing to think of Emily Prentiss as a corpse until he had to, "she'd always whisper the same thing, completely unaware she did it."

He grinned happily, and the agents noticed his finger starting to loosen on the trigger. They tensed, waiting, all except for JJ, who was staring numbly at him.

"You know what she'd say?" he asked her, his voice modulating to a horrible, cruel mockery of Emily Prentiss' smooth, low voice made raspy and weak with pain, "She'd say 'Jennifer, help me... save me, Jennifer... please save me... please make it stop...' Over and over. She would cry in her sleep, you know. Not for more than a few moments, but... she never wanted her mother, her father, her friends, anyone. She wanted Jennifer."

JJ's face became a mask of shock and horror, and her gun started to waver. So did Jonah's, though.

"JJ!" Rossi called, trying to unfreeze the press liaison with the firm strength and tone of command in his voice, "Agent Jareau!"

"She said one other thing too, you know," their UnSub continued, as oblivious to Rossi as JJ, "Only one other thing, the entire time. You want to hear it?"

"That's enough!" Morgan interrupted harshly, wanting nothing more than to kill the bastard, "Where is she, Samis?!"

He didn't respond, his attention totally concentrated on JJ.

"I asked her if she wanted me to find her precious Jennifer for her, you know. Just so she could see her one last time before she died a slow and painful death. And here I thought I was being generous and doing her a favor, but she became so belligerent. She told me she would make sure I was the one who suffered the long, excruciatingly painful death if I laid so much as a finger on her Jennifer. And you know what really takes the cake? If I had known her beloved Jennifer would be showing up on my doorstep, or in my office, as it were, I would have kept her alive a little longer, just to see the lovely look on her face when I tortured and killed you. She would have screamed then, I think. What a waste."

JJ stood completely frozen, his words echoing over and over again in her mind, drowning out everything and everyone else, then she slowly crumpled to her knees, staring blankly at the floor. It didn't really bother her that he was threatening her. She had faced worse than him. It was that he was so casual about the agony he had inflicted on Emily Prentiss... and how much more he had wanted to do to her, along with the pleasure he had garnered from her suffering. If he had killed Emily... but Emily couldn't be dead. She couldn't be gone... Not Emily, with her beautiful black hair, her intensely focused, almost black eyes, her pale skin, her guarded reserve, that sweet, goofy smile... and those hands, which always knew when to reassure, to soothe, those hands that communicated so much that her training and past wouldn't allow her to. It couldn't be too late...

"JJ!"

Morgan and Rossi, seeing the glazed emptiness of her blue eyes, both tried to break through the shock, but she didn't, or couldn't, hear them. Jonah started to laugh, softly at first, then harder, until it rocked his entire body and he threw his head back from the joy of it all. Hotch made his move, grabbing Samis' gun hand and forced it up so he fired into the ceiling while Reid, who had slipped in during his sick story, grabbed the girl he'd been holding hostage and pulling her out of the way while Rossi and a SWAT agent forced the UnSub down, kicking the gun out of his hand. Seeing it was under control, Morgan stayed at JJ's side, still trying and failing to bring her out of her paralysis.

"Search the rest of the house," Rossi snapped at the SWAT and other BAU agents while Samis was being all but carried out, displaying for the first time the rage he'd been suppressing since Prentiss had been kidnapped, "She must be on the grounds somewhere. He wouldn't take her very far. It would be too much trouble."

They scattered immediately, Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan to join SWAT in the search, Reid to move to JJ's side while a SWAT agent escorted the former hostage to a chair and started asking her questions, which he half-listened to. He was worried about Emily too, like everyone, but right now he was almost more worried about JJ. It would be horrible if Emily died, but from the looks of it, that would shatter JJ, and they'd effectively be losing two good agents. Two good friends, really, because they both were that too.

"We're going to find her, JJ," Reid whispered, feeling helpless in the face of the blonde's obvious despair, "Don't worry... we'll find her. We have to. We will, JJ."

Meanwhile, Agent Hotchner was the first to find the entrance to what must have once been an old bomb shelter in the cellar. He called for SWAT and the bomb squad, watching impatiently as they assessed the risks of any traps Samis may have put in place. The wait was almost unbearable as his mind raced through all the possible scenarios waiting for him behind that door. It frustrated him to be in this situation. It was bad enough that a member of his team had been taken. He respected and cared a great deal for all of them, but Prentiss had earned his trust and respect in a trial by fire she had never expected, and he couldn't forget that. She was part of the team, well-liked and talented. He wondered at JJ's reaction to what Samis had said, but he couldn't blame or fault her for it. If it had been Haley... he shook that thought off, finding it unpalatable and distracting. That, of course, lead him to the other reason this was so frustrating. Derek Morgan was brave, loyal, and relentless... but he was also young, good looking, and male, and it was that last part that had gotten him in trouble. He and Prentiss had been in town interviewing the locals and he'd lost track of Emily while he'd been flirting with a beautiful young woman he'd met. He hadn't even realized she was missing until an hour later, when she hadn't appeared with that trademark Prentiss smirk asking about what he'd been doing.

"Damn it..." Hotch heard Rossi mumble, noticing how impatient the older man looked. He echoed the sentiment. The kidnap of Agent Prentiss had devastated his team, not in the least because of how badly they had needed her keen eyes and mind on this case. At the same time, the internal cohesiveness that had held them together through hell and back had been all but destroyed. JJ wouldn't speak to Morgan unless she had absolutely no choice, and even Garcia wasn't entirely able to forgive him, or persuade the blonde agent to take it easy on him. In fact, JJ hadn't been saying much at all, but she had worked tirelessly on this case, showing again that she had all the skills of a profiler even if she lacked the formal training. Morgan had been guilt-ridden, angry, and agitated, which made the others back off even if they wanted to say something reassuring to him. Reid had been confused by JJ's withdrawal, but Hotch thought it was his disappointment that was really striking. He was disappointed with Derek, and the dark man knew it. Rossi had been his typical self, for the most part, but the fragile rapport he'd built with Agent Morgan seemed to have vanished.

"How much longer?" Hotch asked, trying to sound professional rather than anxious, and doubting he'd succeeded.

"We're almost set, sir," the bomb squad leader replied, turning back to her team. Hotch might have said more, but suddenly Reid's voice was crackling in his ear.

"Hotch, the girl Samis was holding hostage was the daughter of another high-profile female diplomat," he started with uncharacteristic succinctness and clarity, "And apparently her mother was an associate of Ambassador Prentiss."

"Did she know anything about Agent Prentiss?" he asked softly, watching Rossi as he digested the information they had so far. He knew they were both hoping for the best while fearing the worst.

"She was brought here just a short time ago," Reid replied promptly, "and she says she saw a woman matching Emily's description against the wall of the room she was put into at first, but she was only there for a minute or two. And Hotch..."

Here he hesitated, then added softly, "She didn't know if Emily was alive. What little she saw of her would seem to indicate that she was in pretty bad shape."

The two senior agents digested that, but were distracted as the bomb squad declared the door clear and SWAT opened it, releasing an odor of blood and decay. One of the SWAT guys found the light switch and flipped it, revealing a scene both grotesque and terrifying. Blood coated the back wall of the big room, and body parts in containers bolted to the walls testified to the horror Samis had wrought on other women. The worst part for the two agents was the sight of Emily Prentiss against that bloody back wall. At first it looked as though she were standing against it, but as they rushed toward her she collapsed, all but boneless, onto the hard concrete floor. They could see where the ropes that had held her had frayed and finally broken, and both wondered if she had done that somehow.

"We found her, Reid. She's in the basement. We need a medic."

He heard Reid's confirmation, then something else in the background. Before he could even check Prentiss' pulse, JJ had appeared in the doorway, her blonde hair flying behind her like a banner as she rushed to Emily's side, two fingers immediately pressing to her neck.

"She's alive! Where's that medic?!" she cried out, staring down at the older woman as panic gave way to mixed horror and relief. Relief because her friend was alive, but the extent of her injuries was terrifying. While she still wore her black suit and white shirt, they were dirty and torn so badly they were barely recognizable as clothes, making them a mockery of Prentiss' usual impeccable dignity. Almost every inch of exposed skin was covered in bruises, dirt, blood, or burns, and sometimes all of the above. Interestingly her face was almost unmarked, except for a deep gash across her temple. That was curious, but at the moment no one had the time or energy to devote to the anomaly.

"Emily?" JJ asked softly, shaking the older woman gently, terrified, despite her own assessment, that the brunette was dead or so far gone she may as well have been. When a sliver of darkness appeared in Emily's eyes the tears that had been threatening for almost a week were set free, falling silently against the pale woman's skin. Hotch leaned over, checking her pulse for himself and gesturing urgently to the arriving paramedics, who hurried forward and started putting leads on the profiler as her friends, her family, looked on helplessly.

"Don't worry, we're here to help you. Can you speak, Agent Prentiss?" one of the medics asked, checking the monitors and using gestures to convey rapid commands to his team. They got a backboard under her, but as soon as they tried to restrain the semiconscious woman and put her in a neck brace she struggled weakly. What was even more disturbing was her silence, and Hotch realized that she didn't know who the paramedics were. She didn't, couldn't, tell the difference between them and the man who had been torturing her. He had said Prentiss had largely refused to speak, except...

"Emily," JJ whispered, moving to her side and gently holding her down, a simple enough task considering how weak the other agent was, "Emily, it's okay. You're safe now."

The brunette's eyes opened a little more, emotions barely recognizable as doubt and terror flying across them before they resumed their previous dullness. Her expression was empty and dead, and that was terrifying. Prentiss had great control over her expressions, but this was different. It was a complete lack of emotion from a woman who normally displayed a wide range, even at the worst of times.

"Emily, listen to me. Listen to my voice," the blonde went on soothingly, reaching out with trembling hands to gently cup Emily's face, turning her to look up at her, "It's me, Emily. It's Jennifer."

Emily froze completely, then the numbness gave way to terror.

"Jennifer... JJ... no... get away... escape... get out..."

"Shh," JJ soothed, stroking the limp hair behind her friend's ears, "Shh, Emily. It's okay. We got him. He can't hurt you anymore. You're safe now, sweetheart. I'm here."

Prentiss relaxed, her face turning into JJ's touch.

"It's really over?" she asked softly, her voice weak and raw, as if she'd almost forgotten how to use it, "He's gone?"

"He will never touch you again, Emily," the blonde replied firmly, her voice so full of fire and conviction that Emily made the apparently massive effort to open her eyes and look at her, a faint hint of a smile touching her cracked, bloody lips.

"Jen... JJ..." she started haltingly, stumbling over the name. The paramedics took advantage of her complete focus on the blonde press liaison to finish what they started, but once again she struggled against the restraints until JJ cupped her face in one hand, the other gesturing for the paramedic to hand her the restraints and neck collar. After a glance at Hotch, who nodded, he handed them over, primarily concerned with getting his patient treatment, not with how or who did it.

"I'm going to put this around your neck, okay Emily?" she asked gently, waiting for the slight nod before putting action to words, adding in a whisper to keep her friend distracted, "and if you want to call me Jennifer, that's fine with me. And whatever you decide, please, just trust me. I'll take care of you now, Emily. I'll protect you. I promise you I will."

"I always knew you would," the brunette whispered back, the tension and fear in her body starting to fade away, until something occurred to her that put the panic back in her dark eyes, although it had little or nothing to do with the restraints JJ had just put on her. She didn't even seem to be aware of them, the watchers noticed. All her attention was on JJ.

"Don't let her ship me off," Emily rasped, her voice fearful and desolate.

"Who, Emily?"

"My mother," the brunette replied, her voice beginning to fail her, "She hates my job... she'll use this as an excuse to ship me off somewhere... don't let her, Jennifer... please..."

"I promise, Emily," JJ assured her, "I'm not letting anyone take you away from me... us... again."

Emily smiled slowly, her eyes starting to slide closed.

"I knew you'd make it stop, Jennifer... You always do."

Before the younger agent could say anything the brunette fell limp against the board she was on, passed out but not, as the paramedics were quick to assure her, dead. She was, however, not out of danger, and they needed to get her to a hospital ASAP. When JJ said she would be going with them, no one dared object. The profilers may have seen more of the nuances than the medics or SWAT agents, but no one could miss the fierce protectiveness in the press liaison's bearing and the raging fire in her blue eyes.

"Let's go then."

JJ helped them get the board onto a stretcher and followed them out, a hand wrapped around one of Emily's. Morgan caught up with them at the ambulance, standing stock still as he took in the damage done to the other agent.

"JJ..." he started hesitantly, but was frozen in place by those eyes that had turned to ice whenever they landed on him in the last week. Now it was even worse, somehow, and his guilt increased exponentially.

"Derek, you know I like you. We're family," the blonde stated softly, the words themselves kind, but the tone and expression serious calm, "but if Emily dies... I will hold you personally responsible and see to it your life becomes a living hell."

With that she turned away and the ambulance doors slammed shut, leaving him staring as the big vehicle raced away, sirens piercing the apparent tranquility around them. He heard a throat clearing behind him and turned, finding Rossi there. The older man was looking at him with that clinical look he gave UnSubs, and it irked him. Despite that, he didn't say anything. He didn't feel he had the right to.

"The lady has a point, Agent Morgan," the senior profiler remarked suddenly, his voice as clinical as his face, "if Prentiss dies, it's because you let yourself get distracted on the job and allowed her to be taken. From the looks of things, she put up a hell of a fight, and might have won if she'd had backup. You could have saved her a lot of pain and torment."

"I get it, okay Rossi?!" Derek shot back, wishing he could punch the older man.

"Do you really?" he asked implacably. The dark agent sighed, too frustrated, tired, and beaten down emotionally to argue or fight with Rossi.

"Yeah, I do."

With that, he turned and walked away, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. Rossi watched them go, not reacting when Hotch appeared at his side.

"Did you have to be so hard on him, Dave?"

He nodded absently, knowing Hotch well enough to hear what he was really asking.

"He stopped thinking, Hotch. When a profiler stops thinking, even if it's just for a moment..."

He trailed off, but he knew he had been understood. It fascinated him, although he'd never say it, that Aaron Hotchner understood him so well. For having millions of "fans" and a following in the business, he really was something of a dark horse. Not with Hotch. And, in all fairness, he was probably the one who knew Hotch best, perhaps even better than Haley. He gave a moment's thought to his-friend's?-beautiful wife, wishing she hadn't sent those divorce papers. Hotch loved Haley, and he loved Jack. But like Rossi himself, profiling wasn't a job to him. It wasn't something he could switch off and on. Profiling, and the BAU, was a fact of life for them. They lived and breathed it. He was only sorry that it had come at such a high cost to the man at his side. He, who had never had much to lose, hadn't given up much. Aaron had, and he respected him all the more for it, even if he regretted what came of it.

"I know."

As the hawk-like eyes turned away, David wondered if Hotch guessed at his thoughts, or was simply responding to his comment. It was probably both.

"Do you think she'll make it?" he asked softly, showing some of his concern for the injured agent the only way he knew how. For just a second a hint of a smile showed on Aaron's face, then it was gone. Rossi understood.

"She's strong, Dave," the taller man replied calmly, but his eyes gave him away to the more experienced profiler, "and more importantly, she has a great deal to live for, whether she realizes it or not."

"Do you think they do know?"

This time Aaron actually chuckled faintly and looked down at him.

"They're profilers, Dave, even JJ for all that she doesn't have the title. So, naturally... they have no idea."

The older agent laughed, shaking his head. Hotch clapped him on the shoulder and led him to the SUV awaiting them. It was time for them to support the fallen members of their team. Hotch drove, hitting a speed dial number on his phone.

"Hotch? What happened? Is everyone all right?" Garcia's voice asked urgently, the questions coming out in a jumbled rush. He shared a quick look with Rossi, who simply smiled. Garcia amused and intrigued him, Aaron knew, even if he wouldn't admit it. He had said she wore her individuality like a shield, and that was true. Now he wanted to know what was underneath.

"We got Prentiss," Hotch answered softly, managing to convey relief and reassurance with only a subtle alteration of his tone, while at the same time giving the sensitive "tech goddess" a warning that all was not exactly well.

"Oh my God... how is she? Did anyone else get hurt? Why didn't Derek or JJ call?"

Once again the questions came out in a jumble, but the two men were used to it.

"Everyone else is fine. Morgan has some issues to work out, with himself and with Prentiss and JJ, though. And before you ask, JJ is fine. She went to the hospital with Prentiss."

He hesitated slightly before adding carefully, "It doesn't look good, Garcia. JJ is pretty torn up. Apparently our UnSub tortured her pretty brutally and-"

"Oh my God..." Garcia interrupted, sounding so terror-struck and alarmed that he actually stared at the phone for a second. Rossi straightened in the passenger seat, hearing the shades in her tone just as Hotch had, even if he wasn't quite as familiar with translating "Garcia-speak."

"Garcia, what's wrong?" he asked sharply, knowing the older man would let him be the one to ask the questions.

"I just checked my e-mail..." Garcia replied slowly, sounding absolutely horrified, "and there was one... from Jonah Samis sent about ten minutes before you guys would have gotten there. He forwarded it to everyone, Hotch."

With an abruptness that actually startled Rossi, he pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road, staring at the phone as if he could see through it to Garcia's many screens.

"Garcia... what's in that e-mail?"

"It's a link to a video, sir..."

There was a long, pregnant silence, and the sounds of crying from the tech analyst that all but confirmed Hotch's fear.

"It's a video of Emily being tortured, sir... all of it. From the entire week. Every single... brutal... cruel... sadistic... vicious... sickening... moment. All of it. Every- Oh my God! Oh my God no!"

"Garcia?!"

Again there was silence, and again they could hear Garcia crying, but now she was sobbing almost uncontrollably. When she spoke, her voice was so laden with grief and agony that neither man could help being affected.

"How could she... how could anyone... survive that kind of torture... how could someone do that to another human being... how... It's wrong... it's just so wrong..."

They heard her sniffle and blow her nose, but her voice still had tears in it, and the horror remained.

"And it gets worse."

"There's worse?" Rossi asked softly, too quietly to be picked up by the speaker.

"He e-mailed it to everyone on the team, Hotch. To me, to you, to Rossi, to Morgan, to Reid, to JJ... and to Emily. And before you ask, he apparently got the addresses from the FBI database, and it wasn't sent to any of our private addresses. There's no indication he had personal information on us, or that he even knew Emily was an FBI agent, even though he sent it to her work address. Maybe he thought she worked for the Bureau as something else."

"He seemed surprised," Hotch agreed, but his brain was stuck on the fact that an e-mail of the torture had been sent to, of all people, the woman who had suffered it. That level of sadism was...

"Disgusting," Rossi growled, unwittingly finishing his thought before adding, "Garcia, is there any way you can delete the e-mail sent to Agent Prentiss?"

"I think so, sir... but just Emily's?"

"Yeah... I think so."

He looked at Hotch, but the younger man was turning, getting one of the FBI issued laptops and connecting to their satellite uplink. He handed the laptop over to Rossi and went back to driving. The other agent knew he was rushing to their motel, where they would be able to watch and assess the video in private.

"Garcia, how long is it?"

"How long, sir?" she asked uncertainly, "It's hours long. Apparently he tortured her on a regular schedule every day. From the time stamps it looks like an hour twice a day, every day from the third day she was missing."

"The third day?" Hotch asked curiously, "What did he do the first two days?"

He heard a rattling of keys, an intake of breath, then, "He talked to her, sir. On the first day it was about her mother, about herself as a child, about her father, and about his work. On the second day he talks to her about what he's going to do to her, and about how he fantasized about doing all that to her mother."

"Is there any indication he let her eat or drink in that time?"

"No sir... it looks like he did give her an IV to keep her hydrated the first two days, but by the third day it's gone."

They were almost to the motel now, and Hotch almost hit another vehicle while parking, now in a visible state of agitation and anger.

"Hey, Hotch, what's the rush?" he heard Morgan's voice ask and turned, seeing the somewhat ironic look on Rossi's face as he did.

"Come on. There's something we need to take a look at."

With that he strode toward his room, knowing the other two would follow him.

"Garcia," he started, seeing Morgan's flinch at the name but not having the time to address it now, "I'm going to send the jet back to Quantico to get you. We caught the UnSub, but right now we need to focus on Prentiss. None of us are in any state for new cases, and I think if nothing else JJ could use the support right now."

"Oh, God, thank you sir..."

"And Garcia... I don't usually say this, but you do not have to watch that video. Just make sure that Prentiss doesn't get the e-mail."

"Yes sir."

The relief in her voice made it worth it, he decided, and hung up, turning his attention back to the computer screen and opening up his e-mail.

"Get comfortable," he commanded, remembering how to connect the TV and the computer from previous experiences, "we're going to be here a while, and this is not going to be pleasant viewing."

They did settle into chairs, but neither man looked comfortable, and Morgan was confused on top of it. As soon as the video feed began, though, he was frozen in place. Thirteen hours of cruelty and horrific torture later, all three men were staring at the screen, even though the video had ended. After a few long moments Derek stumbled to his feet and staggered into the bathroom. The two senior agents could hear him throwing up, and neither blamed him. If it weren't for their years of practice in self-control, they would be in there too. When he returned and sat down, a bottle of water from the mini-bar in hand, there were a few moments of pregnant silence.

"That piece of..."

That had come from Rossi, and it didn't surprise Hotch that he was the one to break the silence. Morgan was still in shock, and Aaron knew there just weren't any words for what had just played out before their eyes. The UnSub had been telling the truth when he said that Prentiss hadn't made a sound, except when JJ had been threatened and when she had just passed out from the torture, which seemed physically and psychologically impossible. The last thing they'd heard had been perhaps the single most haunting thing of all, despite all the torture, cruelty, and sadism that had been so rampant.

"Jennifer... Forgive me..."

Prentiss had been dying. Of that they were certain, just as they were certain that she'd known it. And never once had she begged for mercy, or for food and water. And she had never begged him, which had by turns vexed and enraged him. The only person she had ever begged for anything had been 'Jennifer.' Hotch noted that not once had any of them had questioned the fact that it was JJ she was talking to. It was understood by all three of them, as it had been by Samis.

"The important thing is we found her and she's still alive," Hotch declared, though he knew it lacked most of his characteristic confidence, "and that call from JJ was reassuring."

That last, at least, was mostly true. Although she had been badly starved and dehydrated, Emily hadn't reached that critical point where her pain-weakened body could no longer survive. The doctors were sure they could get her back on track in terms of nutrients and lost muscle in time. The torture, which they now knew had ranged from electric shocks from a tazer to beatings with brass knuckles and a whip-like stick to having intensely hot coals pressed against her skin and held there until they finally cooled to having her fingers and feet stuck in ice until they were burned by the cold. He'd splashed her with acid and watched it eat through her clothes and dribble down her body... and more. Each session had been different, and it had become more violent as time went on and still Prentiss refused to break. Thankfully the ice burns would heal, leaving her limbs fully functional, and they thought they could do something about most of the burns to keep the scarring to a minimum. Fortunately, Prentiss could afford the best medical care available, and JJ was ensuring she got it, even if the blonde ended up footing the bill.

"And what about the bad news?" Rossi asked tersely. The "bad news" had been that the doctors weren't sure if the electricity had caused damage to the circuitry in her brain, and while scans were promising, they weren't sure yet. Prentiss had been unconscious for the most part, but she was at least somewhat aware of her surroundings, according to JJ. She would fight restraints, which had been suggested for her own safety. JJ had rejected that plan apparently, telling her coworkers that there was no way in hell Emily would be tied down any more. The disturbing thing, the blonde agent had mentioned, aside from the injuries, of course, was that she never made a sound, no matter what they did or how much pain she had to be in. JJ had informed Hotch that she had talked the other agent out of several apparent nightmares, which she had only been able to identify by her expressions and the way her muscles tensed.

"She'll make it," Hotch replied, "that's the important thing."

"She's not out of the woods yet," the older man persisted, "all those shocks are going to take a toll on her muscles, to say the least. And you and I both know that if she doesn't have the will to live, she won't survive those injuries. We've both seen people who medically could have survived, but still died because they didn't want to live."

"Emily wants to live," JJ's voice interrupted from the door. They turned to face the obviously exhausted blonde, noticing that she carried Prentiss' ready-bag over one shoulder, her own over the other. Garcia stood behind her, looking as if she had been crying for a long time. Morgan started to rise, obviously wanting to offer comfort, but he hesitated. JJ looked at him for a long moment, then at Garcia, who was also watching her.

"I won't be responsible for dividing up my family. But Derek... what I said before stands."

He bowed his head, but still he strode past JJ and opened his arms, closing them tightly around Garcia when she stepped into them, rubbing her back and hair as she cried. It was all the comfort he could give, but it was better than nothing.

"I take it you're planning to stay with Emily then?" Reid asked softly, coming in from the adjoining room. From the quick glance at the laptop and the pale, horrified cast to his features, the three men realized that he had seen the video, and had likely relived his own trauma as well. JJ nodded, also glancing at the laptop. Before anyone could ask or approach the subject with kid gloves, she shook her head, her usually lively blue eyes dull and bloodshot.

"I saw it too," she stated, earning a horrified gasp from Garcia and long looks from the four men in the room as she added more hesitantly, "I mean... I skipped the first part... the first two days. I watched the rest while Emily was in surgery."

"Wait, surgery?" Morgan asked, echoed by Reid. JJ blinked, confused, then shrugged.

"I forgot to tell you in my message? She had a cracked rib that the doctors considered dangerous to her lung, so they did the best they could to stabilize it. Then they found some internal bleeding that hadn't shown up on their scans and had to do an exploratory surgery. And she had fluid built up in her head, and that had to be drained. So yeah... surgery."

She held up a hand to forestall other questions, shaking her head wearily.

"I have to get back. I don't want to leave her alone just in case she wakes up. And sir," now she turned on Rossi, weary blue eyes blazing fiercely, "You haven't been here very long, so you don't know Emily all that well. Or me. She's stronger than anything, and even if she does start wanting to give up, I won't let her. If I got nothing else out of those videos, I know she trusts me. So I'll protect her. You can be as cynical and sarcastic as you want, but you don't get to doubt Emily. She suffered, and survived, too much."

With that she was gone, leaving the others in stunned silence, broken only by the faint sound of Garcia's sobs into Derek's chest. Hotch sighed, longing for Haley's warm embrace and Jack's innocence. He felt soiled, he realized, as if by watching Emily's torture he had been tainted. He didn't feel he had the right to go near his son or beloved wife, much less touch them. He shook himself from his thoughts, knowing that as unit chief he had to pull it together for his team, then saw Rossi watching him with that look of understanding that at once annoyed and reassured him. At least someone understood, someone he respected and trusted to help him maintain his privacy, despite occasionally asking some rather pointed questions.

"Garcia, you can take JJ's room. Morgan, take Emily's. They're adjoining, and right over from us here. I know we all want to see how Agent Prentiss is doing, but we all need to get some sleep. JJ probably won't leave the hospital until Prentiss does, but the least we can do is make sure we're rested enough to support her while she supports Emily."

It struck him as sad in that moment as his team separated once again that for as close as they all were, it had come to this. JJ and Morgan were at odds, and he didn't doubt that JJ would hold Derek responsible if Emily died. He wasn't sure yet if she would ever forgive him, and that was a concern. He also had no idea about how Prentiss herself would feel toward the young man. And worse, the burden of watching over Emily at her weakest and most vulnerable had fallen on JJ's slender shoulders. How, he didn't know, but that was how it was. He just hoped she would be strong enough for both of them, and he could be strong enough for them all.

**Date and Time: February 11, 2008, 06:33**

**Location: Ruby Memorial Hospital, Morgantown, West Virginia**

JJ sighed softly when she arrived at the door of Emily's room, more than a little relieved to find her just as she'd left her. No one had come in, the nurse assured her, and she moved slowly to Emily's side, feeling tears threatening all over again. She forced them back, focusing all her attention on the woman laying helplessly in bed, still largely smeared with blood and dirt. The remains of her suit had been cut away during surgery, and the stark whiteness of the hospital gown seemed dark in comparison to her skin. Lines of tension marred the sunken features, and JJ reached out slowly, twining her hand into Emily's, her thumb stroking the back of her hand. Even in sleep Emily seemed to turn toward her, and JJ hiccuped as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She flashed back to sitting in that hallway while the doctors operated on Garcia, remembering the horrible pain and fear that had been coursing through her. That night, Emily had been at her side, silent, solid, watchful, and warm. Emily had been the one to take her hand, the one who, despite her own fear and pain, had guarded and supported her, the one who gave her the strength to hold on. It had been Emily that had held it together then.

"I never thanked you for that..." she whispered, then almost smiled as her mind gave her an image of her friend's goofy, shy smile and the gentle assurance that there was no thanks needed. With a soft sigh she rose again, braced by her memories, and strode over to the nurse's station. A few minutes later she returned with a basin of water and a soft sponge. In that short time the tension had returned in force, and she quickly set the basin down and hurried forward, taking Emily's hand again and stroking her hair back with her own.

"You're safe now, Emily," she whispered gently, watching the monitors closely. As she soothed the brunette her pulse, which had risen noticeably, started to go back down. She smiled, keeping her hand in the older woman's while she turned away, bringing the basin over and setting it on the bedside table.

"I bet you'll feel better without all that dirt on you," she murmured, starting with Emily's face. The gash had been cleaned up and stitched closed, but all around it the evidence of trauma and abuse remained, and that's what she washed away, careful to be gentle for fear the unconscious woman would feel threatened by something she did. Her mind had blocked out most of the video she'd watched, although she knew it wouldn't last long. The only thing she had been glad for was that there was no indication Samis had raped Emily. Despite that, she would have every reason to interpret any touch as an attack. The bastard had used so many different methods that she doubted Emily's mind would be able to tell the difference between a friendly touch and the beginnings of an attack.

"Emily, you have to hold on for me," she whispered, slowly moving down Emily's body, unable to keep the tears back as she saw more of the brutal injuries marring her friend's arms, torso, and legs. She didn't dare try to turn Emily over, but she knew that he had kept Emily strapped to a movable frame and he hadn't done anything to her back. He'd wanted to watch her face as he tortured her.

"I'm here with you, Emily. I'm not going anywhere," she promised, sitting down in a chair at her friend's side, holding tightly to her hand and leaning her head against the hospital bed. Her mind raced and froze by turns, trying to process and block out what she had seen all at once. She wondered if Emily was dreaming, and hoped that if she were, it was pleasant. After the hell she'd gone through in the last six days, she more than deserved it.

**Date and Time: November 19. 2006, 9:13 AM**

**Location: Quantico, Virginia, Jennifer Jareau's Office**

JJ looked up at the sound of a soft knock on her door frame, taking in the well-tailored suit, neat, straight black hair, and strong, if slightly unsure, bearing of the woman standing there.

"Can I... help you?" she asked slowly, unsure what else to say. She knew she was supposed to be briefing their new team member on protocol over the next couple days, but that meeting was scheduled for 9:30. Maybe the woman was lost?

"I'm sorry... are you Agent Jareau?"

The woman's voice was deep and fluid, almost musical despite the undertones of uncertainty and anxiety. JJ started to rise, holding out her hand. The woman smiled, the expression both shy and grateful as she shook it firmly.

"I'm Emily Prentiss... uh... Agent Emily Prentiss?" the brunette started haltingly, starting to look a little unsure again as JJ continued to watch her, "I know I'm early, but I... if this is a bad time..."

JJ shook off her confusion and surprise and smiled gently, gesturing Prentiss into a chair and making an attempt to clear off the piles on her desk so she could actually see the other woman.

"Not a bad time at all," she assured her, giving her a sweeping look, this time taking her measure as an agent she was about to be working with rather than someone who was simply passing by. To her surprise, she felt herself liking this Emily Prentiss. It made her feel guilty and disloyal to Elle, but if she had learned nothing else from working with profilers, it was to trust her instincts and not let emotions get in the way. Unless and until Prentiss did something wrong, she would treat her with all the courtesy due another agent. In any case, Reid, Morgan, Hotch, and Gideon would give her enough of a hard time, although Garcia was usually friendly enough. There was no reason for her to be rude, and honestly she doubted Elle would especially want her to be.

"I can wait if you need me to..." Prentiss replied, still clearly hesitant. Oddly, JJ liked her all the better for that vulnerability, especially since she was reasonably sure it was genuine.

"Don't worry," she answered reassuringly, pulling a file out of the stack, "There's no time like the present, so let's get started."

Emily smiled warmly, but JJ could see that those dark eyes, while expressive, were guarded, and a thick wall of reserve and wariness seemed to surround the older woman. The initial briefing went smoothly, and JJ's opinion of the other agent rose quickly. She was clearly intelligent and eager to learn, and absorbed the information JJ was giving her like a sponge. The only thing that unsettled her was how uncertain and guarded Emily was. She was holding something back, and at the same time seemed to almost expect a blow to land. What could have made her so wary?

"Emily," she started during a natural lull in their discussion, "I don't know about you, but I could use some coffee. Are you up for it?"

The brunette's response to the simple idea was stunning. A broad grin spread across her face, and for just a moment the reserve around her seemed to vanish. It was back in seconds, but JJ had already seen just a hint of the woman underneath, and decided right then to do what she could to get her to open up. It might take a while, but if what she had seen was any indication, it would be worth the effort. As she showed Emily the break room, such as it was, and poured them both a mug of coffee, she considered her instant response to the brunette. She knew she should be wary of her, since she was new and, if Hotch's attitude had been any indication, not entirely welcome, especially after Elle, but she just couldn't bring herself to dislike the woman.

"You know, the name Prentiss sounds really familiar," she remarked, trying for casual conversation, "Have we met before?"

She doubted it, since she was fairly sure she'd remember the striking brunette. Once again, Emily's reaction surprised her. She paled first, then looked strained and sad until her walls slammed back into place with a firmness that almost felt like a physical blow to the watching liaison.

"No, we haven't met, Agent Jareau..."

Emily looked down, apparently finding her coffee fascinating for a few minutes until she straightened her shoulders, guarded, dark eyes meeting curious blue.

"My mother is Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss," she stated simply, then fell silent, just waiting. Once again JJ got the impression she was waiting for a blow to land, and thought through the implications of that. If someone had told her the new agent was the daughter of two high powered diplomats, her first thought would have been that her parents must have made some calls. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it now that she'd spent some time with Emily, though. She didn't dismiss the idea, by any means, since she had no evidence one way or another, but she somehow doubted it. Prentiss wasn't a snob or an arrogant upstart. She had read her file. The woman had gone through all the training and applied for every BAU opening she could. Her resume had shown a slow, steady progression through the ranks of the Bureau, and more than once she had been noted as extremely hard working, but also somewhat reckless. Nothing in her file showed anything other than a woman who worked hard to prove herself in a world that still wasn't entirely accepting of women.

"Yeah? And?" she asked softly, obviously startling Emily, "Did your parents make a call to get you here?"

"NO!" the brunette replied sharply, her tone both pained and sad, with a touch of anger thrown in, "I don't know why I was put in the BAU without Agent Hotchner's go-ahead, or Agent... Gideon, was it? I don't know why the paperwork got screwed up. I do know I worked hard to get where I am, without any help from my parents!"

The passionate reply reassured JJ immediately, and she instinctively reached out, laying a hand on Emily's elbow.

"Okay then. There's no problem."

The older agent stared at her for several long moments, then glanced down at the hand in question before looking back up, a slow, pleased smile spreading across her face.

"Okay?" she asked softly, just for a moment sounding like a much younger woman who needed to be reassured that she hadn't done something wrong. JJ smiled back, giving the arm she held a gentle squeeze before pulling away, noticing as she did that it was much easier to reach out and connect with Prentiss than it had been with Elle. Once again she felt disloyal, but then she and Elle had never exactly bonded. She had always gotten the impression that Elle had seen her more as a blonde than as an agent, and that the tough New Yorker had always sort of questioned her right to be an FBI agent, something she had never quite reconciled.

"Yeah," JJ replied, giving Prentiss another smile, "so let's get back to work. You up for a little more drilling?"

For the first time since they'd met Emily gave her a completely unguarded smile, taking years off her age and making her dark eyes sparkle warmly. It was gone quickly, but not before she saw the gratitude and respect in the expression. It was strange, she thought as she led Prentiss back to her office, that so far at least she hadn't gotten the slightest impression that Emily questioned her right to be there. Maybe because, unlike Elle Greenaway, she had needed to prove her mettle again and again. Elle radiated confidence and strength, and no one doubted that she was tough. Here, though, was a woman with a different kind of strength, a quiet surety and quick mind that was hidden by the diplomatic mask and the very feminine grace she carried herself with. She wasn't the kind of woman men would bet on in a brawl, for example, the kind with the quick fire and anger just barely contained in every line of her body.

"Thank you," JJ heard the other agent murmur once they'd reached her office, and the blonde turned around and smiled. Despite her willowy, elegant appearance, JJ found herself thinking that if it came down to it, she would bet on Emily Prentiss. And for now, that was enough.

"Any time."

They sat down and got comfortable again, Emily with her notepad and file, JJ with her own file and ready pen. Before starting the briefing again, though, she hesitated, making a decision that she hoped she wouldn't end up regretting.

"Agent Prentiss?"

The brunette looked up immediately, a flicker of worry behind her eyes before it vanished behind that damned mask.

"Is something wrong, Agent Jareau?"

JJ shook her head slowly, starting to smile again.

"Well, firstly I just realized I was very rude earlier. I never did exactly introduce myself. Not a good habit for a press liaison."

She held out a hand, smiling gently as she said, "I'm Agent Jareau, communications coordinator and liaison for the BAU. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Emily grinned, taking her hand. JJ noticed that the motion was most decidedly practiced, but the warmth behind the expression and the clasp of her hand seemed sincere.

"The pleasure is mine," Prentiss replied contentedly, then added in a tone of mild confusion, "was there a second thing?"

JJ chuckled, finding herself somewhat charmed by the quizzical tilt of her head and the expression of mild confusion on her pale, angular face.

"Not many people call me Agent Jareau. The team certainly doesn't. Most people call me JJ."

"JJ..." Prentiss repeated, then tilted her head curiously again, brushing her straight black hair back. The blonde noted absently as she did it the light caught on streaks of deep mahogany she hadn't noticed before.

"So I get the second one, Jareau. What's the first 'J' for?"

"Jennifer," she replied readily, surprised she hadn't mentioned it before.

"Jennifer."

Prentiss' low voice seemed to be testing the name, then she shook her head, smiling faintly.

"If I'm going to call you JJ, you should probably call me Emily," she murmured, an almost conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. JJ laughed and agreed, and they spent the next couple of hours going through more of the rather large amount of information the brunette had to have to function as part of the BAU. JJ was surprised by how much she wanted to help Emily fit in and be able to ease her way into the team. She didn't want the woman to go through what she had to prove herself, even though she knew she'd probably have to no matter what she did. She was startled out of her explanation of some salient point that Emily had asked her to clarify by a knock on her door, and looked up, confused. No one usually came to her office at this time, except...

"Come on in, Garcia," she called, flashing a quick smile at the woman across from her. Emily smiled back uncertainly, and JJ could see her taking in Garcia with more than a little surprise. She also suddenly realized how tired she looked. There was just so much for her to take in, the blonde knew. It was also true that the sheer exuberance that was Garcia radiated could make anyone unaccustomed to her weary immediately. The tech analyst looked between the two of them, then back at JJ, silently asking who the woman was. JJ smiled, gesturing to Emily, who was also watching her.

"Garcia, this is Agent Emily Prentiss, our new agent. Emily, this is Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst. She's pretty much our expert on anything technology related, and she has access to our records and files. If you need any information, one of us will usually have it."

Garcia gave JJ a long look, which JJ returned. After a moment she grinned and turned to Emily, holding out a hand.

"Welcome to the team," she declared as Emily rose shook the proffered limb. The brunette smiled slowly, glancing over at JJ again, who winked at her. The liaison was a little surprised by how reassured the new agent was by the quick exchange, then she found herself warmed by it. She had obviously touched the older woman earlier, and it was gratifying to know that already Emily felt at least somewhat comfortable with her, and that behind that wary, guarded mask, she might just be starting to trust her. She also had probably seen the way Garcia had looked to her, and was most likely grateful that JJ had encouraged her to be welcoming.

"Garcia, did you need something?"

"Oh, right!" the cheerful analyst replied, handing over a file.

"These are those reports you asked for from our last few cases."

"Great, thanks Garcia," she answered, taking the file, "I wanted to make sure Emily knew what we had been working on lately."

She caught the quick, assessing look her friend threw at her and shook her head slightly. She saw Emily watching the by-play curiously, and could almost hear the wheels turning in the profiler's mind. She smiled, seeing what had become a familiar process of cataloguing information going on in the woman's eyes. Garcia smiled at them both and left, making sure to welcome Prentiss to the team again.

"Garcia is pretty much my best friend," she remarked once the analyst was gone, although she would have bet that Emily had already figured that out, "and when she talks about being the gatekeeper of all things knowable and unknowable, she kind of has a point. Garcia can get into just about anything and find almost any information we need."

"I see..."

JJ smiled, seeing the lingering confusion in the other woman's face.

"Don't worry about it. You'll see."

Emily returned her smile, the expression widening slightly as JJ yawned and stretched suddenly. As her shoulders cracked she heard Prentiss muffle a laugh and mock-glared at her.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and laugh. I bet you're no better."

Emily laughed softly and stretched, the sound even louder than it had been when she'd stretched. JJ grinned, shaking her head, well aware that Prentiss had done that deliberately.

"I think we've covered enough for today, but you're welcome to come by tomorrow."

"I wouldn't want to take too much of your time," Prentiss replied somewhat hesitantly, glancing around at the many files that surrounded the blonde, "I'm sure you're very busy."

"I am," she answered easily, still smiling, "but Hotch told me to brief you. Anyway, you have to admit this is better than reading case file after case file and trying to figure out which of them would be the one the BAU takes."

Emily sat back, looking at her in a quietly assessing way that almost made her uncomfortable, but didn't quite. She felt exposed and vulnerable, but there was a safety in the older agent's reserve, a sense that she wouldn't take what she saw and use it against her. Finally she smiled slightly, waving a hand at the notes she'd been taking.

"You sure about that?"

JJ laughed warmly, appreciating the shy attempt at humor. She covered Emily's hand with her own, squeezing gently.

"See you tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," the brunette replied softly and rose to her feet. She looked back as she reached the door, hesitating slightly.

"It was really nice meeting you... JJ."

The press liaison smiled gently in return, seeing for just a moment a vulnerability about the guarded agent she hadn't expected.

"It was great meeting you too, Emily. Have a good night."

Apparently reassured, the brunette nodded.

"You too."

With that she was gone, leaving the blonde with plenty to think about.


	2. Trauma

**_Trauma_ : **Emotional shock following a stressful event or physical injury,

which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long term neurosis.

**Date and Time: February 11, 2008, 18:43**

**Location: Ruby Memorial Hospital, Morgantown, West Virginia**

JJ stretched slowly, trying to work the kinks out of her muscles. She couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep, but the rational side of her told her it had to happen eventually. She'd barely slept since they'd found out that Emily had been taken, and that had been six days ago. She knew her nightmares had been brutal, but she just didn't have the energy to think about them now. It was hard enough to force herself to function now, exhausted as she still was. She would deal with the video and its effects later. She had to remember to send a message to the therapist she'd been seeing regularly since that case where she'd all but lost sight of the fine balance she had to maintain to do her job. The therapy had helped, more because her therapist helped guide her to ways to work out her emotions without letting them overwhelm her, and how to stay detached without becoming jaded. She liked the guy well enough, grateful that he didn't pry or insist she take meds, or anything else. He just listened, then helped her think and feel her way through what was happening, trusting her to apply those same strategies to her outside life. Now that was being put to the test.

"JJ?"

She turned, pulled from her thoughts by Hotch's voice. His hawk-like yellow eyes swept the room, taking in both of his agents in that quick glance before coming back to rest on her.

"Has she woken up at all?"

She shook her head, sitting back down at Emily's side, automatically slipping her hand back into her friend's.

"I don't think so," she responded wearily, thinking back over the time she'd been awake, "No... but I asked the doctor and he said he thinks her body is just catching up with itself. They ran a few more tests a couple hours ago, and they say that so far things look promising."

"But?"

JJ sighed softly, looking over at the unconscious brunette before looking back at him. Sometimes, though not often, she agreed with Garcia. She hated profilers.

"They're still not sure, Hotch. I heard one of them say that if she doesn't wake up today or tomorrow..."

"Her odds go down and she might not ever?" he asked when she trailed off, seeing the pain flare in her bloodshot blue eyes, followed by a slow nod. He stepped further into the room, moving to Emily's other side, looking down at her, noting how clean she looked in comparison to yesterday. He had seen the plastic basin of water and the sponge, and inwardly he applauded JJ for thinking to do that for Emily. Even unconscious she would probably appreciate being free of the dirt and blood from her ordeal.

"I spoke with Ambassador Prentiss," he stated suddenly, and the liaison looked sharply up at him, her eyes suddenly fierce.

"You called her?"

He shook his head, understanding all too well where the anger had come from.

"No, I didn't. Agent Prentiss is an adult, for one. She's also a BAU agent, and we look after our own. I believe someone in Strauss' office may have called her."

"Strauss..." JJ muttered angrily, her tone making it clear enough how she felt about the section head. She shook her head, asking simply, "What did the ambassador have to say?"

"She was appalled by what had happened, to say the least," he replied coolly, trying not to reveal his own feelings on the matter, "and she wants her daughter to be flown immediately to Vermont for treatment from a doctor she's familiar with there."

"I hope you told her to go to hell," the blonde replied starkly, her eyes blazing now. He watched her carefully, his mind providing the memory of Emily's request and JJ's promise.

"I told her it would be better for Agent Prentiss to stay where she was, that she was being given the best treatment available, that her condition was as of yet unstable, and that the team would prefer to look after her ourselves."

JJ felt a rush of gratitude at that answer. Hotch may have been stiff, somewhat harsh, and very guarded, but there was no doubt, especially after Garcia's shooting and now this week, that he would do almost anything for his team. He watched over them in his silent way, and he was the one who stood up and spoke out for them when needed. She remembered now how it had been Hotch who brought Emily to Milwaukee, and Hotch who had, though she had only found out much later, gone to Elle's apartment and cleaned the blood off the wall.

"What did she say to that?" she asked curiously, pushing aside her memories in favor of focusing on the present. He shook his head, a little irritation showing through his carefully neutral expression.

"She said she would be flying down immediately and we would discuss it then. I thought I should make sure you had a heads-up."

"I appreciate that, Hotch. Any idea when she'll be here?"

He started to respond, but was interrupted by a voice down the hall. JJ, despite having only met the woman once or twice, recognized it immediately and stiffened, instinctively tightening the hand around Emily's. The Ambassador herself swept into the room moments later, taking them in with a practiced sweep of her eyes.

"Agent Hotchner, Agent Jareau. I would say it's a pleasure, but under the circumstances..."

Hotch gave JJ a quick glance, asking her in that moment to trust him to do right by Emily. She nodded slightly, knowing that if anyone could handle the Ambassador, he could, and in any case she didn't want to say anything to Emily's mother that would cause trouble later.

"Of course, we quite understand, Ambassador. These certainly aren't the circumstances any of us would prefer."

The ambassador seemed to consider continuing with the chatter, but then she shook her head slightly, visibly straightening her shoulders. JJ noticed the gesture, mentally comparing it to the same movement Emily made when she was about to take a stand. Elizabeth Prentiss did not measure up to her daughter, at least in JJ's mind.

"Let us not play games, Agent Hotchner. You know I'm here to take Emily to our doctors. She'll get the best medical care in the country, and she'll be with her family."

"With all due respect, Ambassador," JJ interrupted, careful to keep her tone respectful even though she wanted to start yelling, "Emily is with family."

Hotch looked over at her for a long moment, then nodded and turned his attention back to Emily's mother.

"Ambassador, Agent Prentiss is in no condition to be taken anywhere. She had emergency surgery yesterday, and she's still not entirely stable."

"Then I will fly my people out here until she's stable enough to be moved."

JJ would have said something then, but a look from her supervisor reminded her that she needed to trust him. He wouldn't let anything happen to his team if he could avoid it.

"Ambassador," Hotch started, his voice firmer now, "Emily is receiving very good care here. When she wakes up and stabilizes she can decide for herself where to go and who she would prefer treating her injuries."

The older woman fixed him with an intense stare, but he didn't waver in the least. Instead, he stepped forward, placing himself deliberately between his two agents and the ambassador.

"Emily is stubborn, and she doesn't always know what is best for her. I do."

"Are you sure about that, Ambassador?" the unit chief asked softly, earning another sharp look from her.

"Do you dare presume-"

The blonde turned away, tuning out the argument when she felt Emily's hand tremble in hers. The older agent's face had tensed, lines of fear and pain deepening noticeably. She shifted a little, then trembled more violently, clearly in pain and still unwilling to make a sound.

"Hotch," she called, immediately getting her supervisor's attention. He took one look at Emily and his frown deepened. She remembered then that he hadn't seen, as she had, the silent torment Emily went through moment by moment until right then.

"Ambassador, you and I will discuss this in the lobby. For now, your daughter needs rest and quiet."

JJ ignored them both, focusing instead on calming her friend down. When the ambassador suddenly appeared at Emily's side, though, she glared fiercely, unable to forget that one of this woman's friends had done this. When Elizabeth touched her daughter the reaction was instantaneous. Emily flinched and tried to turn away, but the pain was too much and she shivered, her entire body a testament to what she couldn't give voice to.

"Hotch."

The senior agent was already moving, politely but firmly pulling the ambassador's arm. JJ focused on her friend, gently soothing her hair and stroking the hand still wrapped in hers.

"It's okay, Em, you're safe. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you."

Emily sighed, turning her face into her hand and relaxing again, falling back into more restful sleep. Once she was sure her friend was calm she turned on the ambassador, her blue eyes dark with anger.

"We're Emily's family," she repeated, her voice a harsh warning even as her hands remained gentle, "And she isn't going anywhere with you unless she tells me she wants to. Have you forgotten that all of this was done by Jonah Samis, a friend of yours? It's no surprise she isn't exactly in the mood to trust you or your 'people.' So, with all due respect, Ambassador, please leave. I'll look after Emily."

"I am her mother, Agent Jareau, and I-"

Hotch ran out of patience then. It was obvious having Elizabeth Prentiss there was stressing both his agents, neither of whom needed any more stress.

"Ambassador, come with me."

His firm grip and tone brooked no argument, and he led the older woman to the waiting room.

"Agent Hotchner," she started, but he shook his head, not letting her go on.

"It's my turn now, Ambassador. Agent Prentiss was nearly killed by Jonah Samis, an old colleague of yours, and she was the lucky one. She was the one who survived. He killed four other women, all daughters of female diplomats, all brutally tortured. Emily and the latest victim got away, and the only reason for that is because Agent Prentiss did not give him what he wanted."

"What he wanted?" Elizabeth asked sharply. He nodded, already knowing he might just have to show the ambassador what he meant.

"She never gave in to him," he replied starkly, "She never screamed or begged him to stop. For six days, she held on, and I, for one, am beyond impressed."

"Jonah Samis was a good, caring man," the ambassador argued, "I find it hard to believe he would-"

"Believe it," Rossi's voice broke in from a nearby consultation room. He waved Hotch over, gesturing for the ambassador to join them.

"I have something here you need to see, Ambassador Prentiss," he added with his typical irreverence. Rossi could get away with it where even he couldn't, Hotch decided. Rossi had been one of the first profilers, and had the honors and experience to back up his attitude. If anyone could get away with what they were about to do, it would be David Rossi. The stocky agent set the ambassador in front of a waiting laptop, and Hotch nodded when the older man gave him a quick look, approving of the plan he wasn't sure he could have implemented.

"Ambassador, I would suggest you brace yourself."

That was all the warning Dave gave her before starting the video. Hotch could tell he'd deliberately set it to Samis' description of what he wanted to do to the Ambassador, then made sure she saw some of the "highlights" of the torture.

"That is quite enough, gentlemen," Elizabeth declared sharply as Samis once again started beating her daughter, and again Emily refused to make a sound. Rossi frowned, then clicked on the timer, fast-forwarding to the end of the last "session." The brunette was unconscious, hanging limply against her restraints, and once again the two agents heard the haunting apology, the impact in no way lessened by a second viewing. If anything it was made worse in light of everything they knew now that they hadn't before, both about Emily's injuries and about Samis himself. They'd interviewed the UnSub, and he had made no bones about what he'd done. In fact, he'd taken great pleasure in describing exactly what the women had suffered before he'd killed them. The only thing he seemed upset about was his inability to break Emily. Hotch and Rossi both had been very grateful JJ, Morgan, and Garcia hadn't been there. They doubted the younger members of the team, all of whom were closer to the injured woman, could have held it together.

"That is just a small look at the hell Agent Prentiss went through in the last week. We spent more than twelve hours going through it yesterday," Rossi remarked, watching the ambassador's reaction closely, "And I don't know if you noticed, but the only person she wanted help from was a member of the BAU. Not you, not any of your people."

Elizabeth stared at him, clearly unaccustomed to being spoken to that way. Hotch was silently applauding his mentor, wishing he could be so direct but knowing he couldn't afford to be.

"Agent Rossi, I am just trying to-"

"No, Ambassador," he interrupted harshly, "this isn't about you. This isn't about you. All of us, me, Hotch, Agent Jareau, we're here for Agent Prentiss. There is no room for someone with a personal or political agenda. If you continue to try to relocate Agent Prentiss against her will, we will all fight you on it. Agent Jareau has taken responsibility for her care, as per your daughter's request. Until she says otherwise, Agent Prentiss is staying here."

"How do you know what my daughter-"

Again Rossi interrupted, holding out two documents Hotch hadn't seen before, but recognized immediately.

"These tell us, even if we hadn't heard Agent Prentiss ask Agent Jareau to see to her care."

The Ambassador stared at the sheets, one an advance directive giving JJ the right to make medical decisions if she were incapacitated, the other a signed and witnessed limited power of attorney once again giving the press liaison the authority to decide anything related to her health care. None of them had known she had done that, but Hotch wasn't really surprised. From the first day JJ had consistently been there for the older agent, helping her fit into the team as best she could. He also knew they sometimes spent time together outside of work, which he wholeheartedly approved of. And just recently, when JJ had lost that all important balance, he knew Emily had been there for her, and before that, when Garcia had been shot, it had been Prentiss who had been there for JJ. It made sense that she'd be the one Emily would count on in a crisis like this.

"What is this..." the Ambassador asked finally, looking both hurt and angry, "How could she just... gamble her life on the whim of some..."

"Be very careful how you finish that statement, Ambassador," Rossi warned lowly, sounding both impatient and angry, "Jennifer Jareau essentially saved your daughter's life. She is also a federal agent and a well respected member of the BAU. Agent Prentiss obviously trusts her with her life. Legally speaking, you have no power here."

"I am her mother!"

"And Jennifer Jareau is effectively her guardian," Hotch reminded her, "That was her decision. You of all people should know that your daughter wouldn't do this without good reason. She trusts JJ with her life, and I for one believe she's more than earned that trust. If you try to fight Agent Jareau on this, you'll be fighting the law and the entire BAU."

Elizabeth stared at him, then looked down at the documents, her eyes tracing her daughter's strong, familiar handwriting.

"I can't believe she would go outside of the family for this," she whispered, "I am just trying to protect my daughter. My doctors are the best in the country."

"Hotch, I..."

The tall agent turned, mildly surprised to find JJ in the door. Blue eyes swept from him to the ambassador to the documents on the table, and stopped there.

"What are those?" she asked nervously, and Hotch realized immediately that she was afraid that Ambassador Prentiss had found some way to overrule her. He picked the papers up and handed them over, watching her skim over them, then stop abruptly, her eyes widening.

"When did she..."

Rossi almost smiled, glancing at his old friend before explaining.

"From the dates, she set these up shortly after the Milwaukee case."

"Wait... after she got hit by David Smith's father?" she asked, more than a little startled. Hotch smiled inwardly, remembering his conversation with Dave yesterday. They really didn't know, but at the same time they were acting out what they were oblivious to. Profilers could be so blind sometimes.

"She was obviously concerned," he remarked softly, "Smith could have killed her. He wanted to, as we all know. Maybe she didn't want to risk something like that happening and not having someone she trusted taking care of her."

Ambassador Prentiss started to rise and object, but JJ, recovering from the worst of her shock, shook her head, looking the older woman in the eye.

"Even without this, I would have fought you if you tried to take Emily. With this, you have no chance. Once Emily is stabilized, the only place she's going is home with me and the team. If she tells me otherwise, I'll respect that, but for now it's my choice, not yours."

JJ hesitated for a moment, then softened just slightly.

"I know you're trying to care for your daughter, but that's my job now. That's what she is asking me to do, so that's what's going to happen. Emily trusts me to do this, so I think you should too. Ma'am, you have to remember how closely we all work. When we're on the road, we pretty much live together. She and I have shared rooms, even beds, and occasionally even a toothbrush. I think she trusts me to know what she'd want, and I'd like to think I do."

"If you were family, or her husband, there would be no question," the ambassador pointed out, shaking her head as if trying to deny the whole situation, "Why couldn't she have just gone into the state department like I wanted her to? She could have had a good life, and done all the traveling she wanted without all the danger, and she could have had a good man to take care of her."

JJ sighed, and Hotch could see her almost straining to get back to Emily's side, and yet she seemed unaware of her own body language.

"Emily didn't want all of that. She's an amazing profiler. The BAU is where she belongs. As for a husband, well..."

Now the blonde actually colored faintly, apparently unsure how to finish, but determined to press on.

"Emily just isn't ready to settle down, I guess. We've talked about it. She said she just hadn't met a man she'd be willing to spend her life with. She also said she didn't think most men would understand her dedication to the BAU."

"That's what she told me too," Elizabeth muttered, visibly disgruntled, "but I told her that she shouldn't place her work above-"

"Above what?" JJ interrupted, the anger coming back into her eyes, "Above her life? Above her happiness? Above comfort, or a normal, picture perfect family? The BAU is her life, just like the rest of us, and as much as anyone can be doing what we do, she is happy. As for the rest... she isn't the type to settle for anything less than what she wants. She's brave, compassionate, and strong as hell. If she hasn't proven that to you by now, you don't know her at all."

With that she turned on her heel and left, apparently angry enough to forget what she had come to ask her boss about. Hotch thought he knew, though. She had probably wanted to ask if she had any legal basis to fight Ambassador Prentiss on if she pushed the issue. That point was moot now. It was the Ambassador who would have to fight if she wanted to take over her daughter's care, and now she knew she had no leg to stand on. His prosecutor's mind raced, trying to find any loopholes Elizabeth might try to utilize, but she really had no chance, especially since he would personally oppose it if she did. Emily had seen to it that JJ would have all the power she needed and her mother would have no say. The one thing that surprised him was how careful she had been to keep the ambassador out of this. He had known they were somewhat estranged, especially lately, but he hadn't known quite how much.

"Hey Hotch, I'm going to escort the ambassador out. Care to join us?" Rossi asked, his tone laden with hidden meaning. The younger man nodded, moving to Elizabeth's other side. Between the two of them she had no choice but to leave. JJ, meanwhile, watched from the door of Emily's room, then sighed softly and closed it, leaving her alone with the injured, unconscious woman. She moved to her place at the older agent's side, taking her hand again and stroking it softly.

"I had no idea you did that, Emily," she whispered, staring down into the sleeping face, "but I have to say, I'm glad you did. I was so scared your mother would take you away. I don't want anyone to take you again."

She sighed again, watching the muscles twitch beneath Emily's pale skin, watching for any signs of nightmare and fear but not finding any, at least not until a nurse came in, wheeling in another bed. Since she knew this was a private room she was confused, but then Garcia appeared, hurrying the man along.

"Hey JJ," she called, then lowered her voice at the sight of the unconscious agent, adding, "I figured you were probably exhausted, but you told me before there was no way you were leaving so Hotch, Reid and I talked the staff into giving you a bed."

JJ felt herself starting to smile for what felt like the first time in a week, content to watch her friend direct the nurse. She was slightly surprised that she insisted he set the bed up right next to Emily's, but when she turned a questioning look on her, the tech analyst shrugged.

"She needs you, Jayj."

The simple statement explained everything, and JJ smiled tearfully, letting Garcia embrace her tightly as the nurse finished setting up the bed and locking it into place. He also had the good sense to lower the railings between them, and took the initiative to pad the small wedge between the two beds. JJ tried to thank him, but he waved her off.

"Over a year ago the BAU stopped the bastard who murdered my best friend," he explained softly, "that freak who left bible verses at the scene?"

JJ remembered that case. Tobias Hankel had suffered from multiple personalities and a psychotic fracture, and had killed people because of their "sins." His body count had almost included Reid, after all. She couldn't forget that.

"Anyway," the young man went on, seeing that the two women understood, "I remember you both. I was so happy to hear you caught him. I moved up here to be closer to my family. After losing him, it just didn't seem so important to be 'independent' and all of that. When I heard that someone from the BAU was coming in rolling code 3, I asked the charge nurse if I could stay on her case. When he found out my history with the BAU, he agreed. If you need anything, anything at all, just ask for Nathan Khee. I'll make sure you get it."

Garcia grinned at him, and JJ managed a smile. He was Asian-American, clean-cut, probably a few years younger than she was, with intelligent black eyes and an open face. When he finished straightening the bedding and stood up straight, he was about JJ's height or slightly taller, and she decided that she liked the young man, especially since he seemed willing to go out of his way to help Emily, and her, apparently.

"Thanks a lot, Nurse Khee," she started, but he shook his head, interrupting her.

"Nathan, please. I'll just get out of your way, here, but do you need anything? You must be starving."

JJ thought about that, trying to figure out if she was or not. She'd been running on fear, adrenaline, and coffee for so long that it seemed strange to actually stop and think about food, or anything besides Emily. At her side Garcia laughed softly, distracting her.

"Nathan, the woman hasn't eaten in a week. She must be famished."

He blushed slightly and chuckled, looking a bit sheepish.

"I should have guessed. If it were me I wouldn't have eaten either. Well, we have a cafeteria, but I think a BAU agent deserves something a bit better than that garbage. Hospital food always tastes like... well, like a hospital. There's an Italian place down the block, a diner across the street, and a Japanese restaurant down the other way. Any preference?"

JJ was prepared to argue that hospital food was just fine, but before she could Garcia tossed her a look and lead Nathan out and down the hall, their heads bent together. She shook her head at the sight of the two plotting, then turned back to Emily, who hadn't moved much during the exchange, but if she wasn't mistaken, her head seemed to have turned, as if she had been looking for something. She wondered if it had been her.

"He's cute," she commented softly, finding it oddly reassuring to talk to Emily as if she could hear her, "And he seems to get along great with Garcia. You know, it's funny. We don't usually get to meet up with people we helped later. We just see the death and the mayhem. I can see now why Gideon kept track of the lives saved. It makes it so much more worthwhile to see the good in what we do, rather than always seeing the bad."

Emily was silent, of course, but her mind could summon up an image of the older woman's gentle smile and ready agreement to that statement easily enough. As she started toward the new bed, she noticed that Garcia had brought in her laptop bag, which she had forgotten about yesterday. She hesitated slightly, then sighed, settling herself in bed at Emily's side and pulling over the nearby tray table, setting her computer in place and plugging it in. The last thing she wanted to do was think about Samis and this last week, but she had a job to do, and nothing else to pass the time. She was halfway through her report when Nathan and Garcia returned with Reid in tow, looking quite pleased with themselves as they set out something like a buffet on another table Nathan had cheerfully claimed for them. Rossi and Hotch arrived moments later, apparently summoned by Reid and done with Ambassador Prentiss. She managed another weak smile at the flare Garcia gave the simple act of doling out food and set her computer aside, willing herself to focus on the positives for now. Emily was safe. Nothing could happen to her with the team watching over her.

"Derek, get in here," she called softly, knowing the dark man was loitering outside. There was no way Garcia would have refrained from dragging him here. When he came around the corner and met his eyes, no words were needed. She hadn't forgiven him, and probably wouldn't start to until Emily recovered, but that was no reason for him to starve with all this food in front of them. And for all that she was still extremely upset with him, he was still family. With a nod and a sad smile he sat down at Garcia's side, talking and joking with her almost normally. Hotch and Rossi were mostly quiet, but they were obviously making an effort not to dampen the mood, and even threw in a few jokes here and there to keep the conversation going. As JJ ate, she reflected on how grateful she was to be part of this family, despite everything. More importantly, she was glad Emily had them all to look out for her. She was just sad the woman couldn't be awake to enjoy this, which she certainly would. Once the food was gone, she half-expected everyone to disperse, or for the doctor, Roman Kelso, to kick them out when he arrived, but he just smiled and went about his work, speaking mostly to JJ, clearly aware that she was responsible for decisions here, but also for the benefit of the rest of the team.

"Her vitals are stable, and stronger today than they were yesterday. I've said this before, but I do believe she's still unconscious mainly as a way for her body and mind a chance to recover and repair before facing the world. Her blood work came back with indicators of an infection, which is to be expected given the conditions she was in, but we're keeping an eye on it and giving her antibiotics to treat it. Her injuries are healing normally, and our plastic surgeon says the scarring should be minimal. There will, of course, be scars, as there's only so much we can do about these kinds of wounds, but we do strongly hope that Agent Prentiss will recover fully."

JJ watched his face closely, seeing the slight hesitation and reserve there, and hearing the careful phrasing of his comments.

"But?" she asked softly. His hazel eyes saddened for a moment, and he ran one hand, elegant despite his age, through his white hair.

"Agent Jareau, your friend's body and mind underwent massive trauma, as I'm sure you all know better than I do. Her recovery hinges on her ability to fight the infection with the help of our medications, as well as how effectively her brain copes with everything that's happened."

He sighed, then smiled softly, looking around at all of them, then finally back at JJ.

"I think, Agent Jareau, that she has better chances than most. I've discovered in my years of practicing medicine that with all medical realities being equal, the ones who survive are most often the ones who are loved. Agent Prentiss clearly is that."

With that he made a polite exit, leaving the team to make themselves as comfortable as possible. They all had work to do, and they all did it, but JJ got the sense that it was half hearted at best. In any case, she found that it was much easier to finish the report surrounded by these people, knowing as she did that they completely understood. She wasn't sure when or how it happened, but someone was suddenly slipping her computer off her lap and setting it aside, covering her with a light blanket that, oddly enough, didn't smell like a hospital. She pried her eyes open, wondering when they had closed, surprised to see Hotch tucking her in as if she were a child. The others were slumped in their chairs, covered by hospital blankets she vaguely remembered Nathan providing, but the blanket wrapped around her now was unfamiliar to her. As she tried to process everything, Hotch noticed she was awake and shook his head, a finger to his lips.

"I asked Garcia to pick up a few things from Emily's condo," he whispered, "I thought she would feel safer if she had her own things."

She smiled up at him, seeing the side of him he rarely revealed. This was the father in him, the man who watched over them all in silence, and she respected him all the more for it.

"Thank you," she answered softly, turning to look at Emily. The older woman was still unconscious, but once again she was facing JJ, one hand out as if she'd been reaching for her. She took it gently, leaning over to make sure the light quilt was wrapped completely over her. When she laid back Hotch was watching with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"Get some rest, JJ. Our family is safe for tonight. I'll make sure of that."

She nodded, shifting her pillow over a bit to get comfortable. Hotch watched, his brown eyes both sad and pleased. He wished Haley were here. His wife had liked Emily, and he knew she would have liked to be here to support her. For all that she hated the separation his job had called, the team had been like a second family. They had even had a couple barbecues at their house... until she had left, anyway. He considered calling her but decided to wait, at least until tomorrow. She had probably already heard about what had happened, given that the kidnapping of a federal agent was big news, but it would have to wait. For tonight, all he could do was stand guard over these incredible people who would probably never know just how much he cared about each and every one of them.

**Date and Time: December 4, 2006 23:31**

**Location: BAU Bullpen, Quantico, Virginia**

Emily sighed tiredly, wishing she could just throw her pen across the room. Looking around, she noticed that she was the only one left in the bullpen. She considered that seriously, then, putting all her frustrations of the last few days, she flung the writing implement against the wall, taking more than a little satisfaction from the sound of the impact.

"Uh... Emily?"

She whirled around, staring at the figure standing there.

"JJ... I... uh... what are you still doing here?"

The blonde stepped forward, eyebrows raised.

"Did the pen do something wrong?" she asked bemusedly. The brunette blushed faintly, then sat back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples against the headache that had been nagging at her for days now. She was too tired to be diplomatic, too worn down to care about how things looked or sounded.

"No, the pen didn't do anything wrong. It's just been a shitty week."

The liaison hesitated, then moved to lean against the desk at her side, setting down the file she'd been carrying.

"You want to talk about it?"

Emily hesitated, wondering if she should. She tried to keep her personal life and her work life separate, and before the BAU that had worked. Now, though... now it was hard to tell where work ended and the rest of her life began. She had never worked in such close quarters, and for such lengths of time, with a group of people. She was about to say something dismissive, but then hesitated. JJ was the only one who hadn't been chary of her since she arrived. She hadn't interacted with her the way she did Garcia or the rest of the team, but she certainly didn't expect her to. It was more than enough for her that JJ treated her with the respect due another agent, and a totally unexpected kindness. That made the decision for her.

"I do, actually."

JJ, who had obviously braced for rejection, gave her a warm, welcoming smile, which reassured her further. She shyly smiled back, still unsure of herself but willing to hope.

"Well, I just need to put these in Hotch's inbox," the blonde remarked, "you want to go get a drink after that, or do you still have something you need to be doing?"

"Well, I..."

Emily trailed off, realizing she really didn't know why she was still at the office. She had mostly finished her report, which really could have waited until tomorrow. For the last half hour, she had been spending more time staring into space than working. The case had disturbed her, of course, but she had quickly learned to set that aside until she could think her way through it, rather than allowing it to overwhelm her by thinking about it all at once. One of the few advantages to being the daughter of a diplomat was that she had learned from a very young age how to keep things that were difficult or painful in compartments in her mind. Sometimes it didn't work so well, like now. It wasn't the case that had upset the fragile internal balance she maintained. It had been Hotch's attitude. Sitting here now, looking up at the sweet blonde, she decided to take a leap of faith and trust JJ as she had once before, during their initial meeting.

"I'm done here," she decided, setting the report inside her desk and locking the drawer out of habit, retrieving her purse as she did. JJ smiled, gesturing for her to follow. She waited outside the door to their boss's office as JJ set the file in his inbox, then followed her out and down to the garage. JJ gave her quick directions to a nearby bar that catered to hardworking FBI agents, and that's where they ended up. The younger agent waved her to a quiet table in the corner before disappearing, coming back moments later with two beers.

"You are an angel," Prentiss murmured, taking a sip of the amber beverage. She usually drank wine, but today was definitely a beer kind of day. She was almost tempted to try something harder, but decided that it wasn't worth the potential hangover, or the possible embarrassment.

"Well, it's good to know you're easy," JJ teased, and Emily almost choked on her beer. The blonde laughed, giving her a 'helpful' thump on the back to clear her airway. The grinning blue eyes encouraged her, and she laughed along with JJ, seeing the joke for what it was. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and Emily was grateful the other woman was letting her do this on her own time. She had probably realized how hard it was for her to open up like this.

"Congresswoman Stiles was an old friend of my mother's," she started slowly, looking down at her beer, her fingers shredding a cocktail napkin quite without her consent, "and she met with Hotch a few days ago, not long after we first found out about the case. After she got done talking to him, she came to ask about how my parents were doing, and about some mutual acquaintances. It was just polite chatter, really."

JJ nodded, but she still waited in silence, for which Emily was grateful.

"You remember when I asked him about that meeting later?" she asked, waiting for the other woman's acknowledgment before going on, "Well, he pulled me into his office later and basically asked if I was spying on the team and accused me of having a political agenda."

"Do you?" the blonde asked, but there was no judgment in her voice. If anything, it seemed like she was asking more for Emily's sake than for her own.

"No!" the brunette answered, but instead of being harsh her voice was just sad and disappointed, "I told him that I thought politics damages people, that it makes them paranoid and destroys families. I really do believe that. I don't want to be my mother, JJ. People respect her, but they don't like her. All my life I've tried to get out of their shadow, and all my life, I've been shoved into a box because I happen to be their daughter."

She took a long swallow of her drink, almost slamming down the cup as the anger built, crawling under her skin like a living thing. It was the first time in years she had said any of this, and now that the dam had cracked, she had trouble holding back the flood.

"I didn't ask to be the Ambassador's daughter. I didn't ask to be a window dressing for them or to be any of the other dozen thing I have to be because they happen to be my parents!"

JJ watched her for a long moment with those intense blue eyes of hers, then suddenly rose. For a split second Emily was afraid she was going to leave, but to her surprise the blonde just moved around the table and sat down at her side, putting a hand over the one still tearing at the shreds of what had once been a napkin.

"Then don't be," she said simply, startling her into staring at her before adding, "Emily, right here, right now, are you the Ambassador's daughter?"

"What? No!"

JJ smiled, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"Right now, you're a woman with a lot to prove, and a federal agent who doesn't know where she stands with her team," the blonde observed, speaking slowly and clearly, as if to make sure Emily caught every word, "You're sitting here with another agent, wondering if you should have trusted her, and if you're making a big mistake. You're afraid that the team, and the team's leader, won't see you as anything but the Ambassador's daughter, and that scares you more than anything."

She stared at the woman at her side for so long that her eyes burned, and only another squeeze of her hand reminded her to blink.

"Are you sure you're not a profiler?" she asked, her voice a little weak.

JJ laughed and shrugged.

"Am I right?"

"Pretty much spot on," Emily replied, deciding then and there that JJ had more than paid back her trust. The press liaison grinned at her, pretending to polish the nails of her free hand on her shirt.

"Well, you spend enough time around all those profilers, you start picking things up. I've worked around these people for years, and while they don't always notice, I do pay attention."

A minute or two of surprisingly comfortable silence passed, then Emily sighed, turning to really look at JJ. There had been no doubt in her mind that the younger woman deserved to be an agent. She had already known she was intelligent, quick-minded, and alert, but she hadn't known exactly how much of a profiler the press liaison would turn out to be. Thinking about it now, though, she realized she really shouldn't have been surprised.

"Why aren't you a profiler, JJ?" she asked softly, "You obviously could be. I've heard you in the briefings. You're careful about the way you throw out ideas, but when it comes down to it you know your stuff."

"You know, Hotch suggested I take the classes once, but I turned him down" the younger agent replied, taking a long draft of her beer, then turned to look over at her, her eyes serious behind a thin veil of laughter.

"Can you really imagine any of those guys having to interact with the press or go through the amount of paperwork I do on a daily basis?"

Emily chuckled at the image that conjured and shook her head, then sobered abruptly, fixing the woman at her side with a piercing gaze.

"No, not really. It just seems like a big sacrifice for you to make just so the team will have an easier time."

It was JJ's turn to give her a long, searching look, apparently startled by the observation, then her expression changed, becoming more introspective.

"I suppose so... but they're my family. Don't get me wrong, I love my family back home, but they don't have a clue what it is I do, or why I need to do it. They wanted certain things of me, like all parents do, I guess. The team, at least, understands, because we all have that need, that drive. It seems to be that what I give up to support the team is nothing compared to what I would be giving up if I didn't. I can't say I always enjoy my job, but someone has to do it. Better me, someone who knows and gets it, then someone less dedicated to them."

Emily smiled warmly, but she had the feeling that JJ had more she wanted to say, so she waited. Sure enough, the blonde took another sip of beer and turned back to her.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to be the daughter of people like your parents, but I do know what it feels like to be a disappointment, the dark child who never quite measures up. The big difference between you and I is that it's so much more public for you. Your parents are always in the spotlight, and because of that you have to be too. That has to be so draining. At least my 'failures' are restricted to a small group of people from a small town who probably would never even dream of the kind of fame and wealth your parents have. It's just so sad that those things are what make it so much harder for you, when most people would think they'd make it easier."

"It only makes it easier if you fit the mold," Emily agreed softly, then shook off the building depression, turning her hand over to give JJ's a gentle squeeze, "but you know, that doesn't mean much of anything. In the end, it doesn't matter how big or small the community is, or how much money is involved. All that really matters is that we have to live with the feeling that somehow we failed the people we most want to please because we're doing a job that has to be done, a job so few people understand."

"You really do get it, don't you?" JJ asked quietly, and Emily nodded.

"I've spent most of my life trying to get out of the box, JJ, trying to prove that I'm every bit as worthy as anyone else, and not because my parents have money or power. I've always believed that what a person works for and earns on their own merit is more valuable than what they're born into, but so few people are prepared to accept that I will work hard. And when I finally prove myself to the world, I've also failed in my parents' eyes. That hurts, every time I have to see it. My mother especially hates that I joined the Bureau, and she hates that I'm doing field work even more. But I need to do this job, just like you need to do yours. If we don't do it, who will? I just wish that people like us didn't have to give up on ever pleasing our parents to do it. We already give up so much. A personal life, for one. Peace of mind would be another."

JJ snorted softly at that. They both knew how true it was. No one who did what they did, saw what they saw, could ever look at humanity in the same way again.

"You've been on the job what, two, three weeks, and you already have all that figured out?"

Emily smiled wryly, shrugging.

"I'm a fast learner."

"You certainly are that, Emily," she replied softly, looking her directly in the eye, "and I think you've already found your place here. Give the team some time, and they'll see it too. Just remember that we don't need or want you to be the Ambassador's daughter. We just want Emily. If they learn to see you like I saw you that first day, and tonight, you'll be part of the family in no time."

She squeezed the brunette's hand again, smiling gently.

"As for me... as far as I'm concerned, you're part of my family already, Emily, and that's something I'm proud of."

A slow, sweet smile spread across the older agent's face, and for just a moment the habits of a lifetime tried to assert themselves, telling her to back off, to close down, but she just couldn't. So instead she made a conscious decision to ignore that little voice and raised her glass.

"To family then."

JJ lifted her beer, clinking them together, then they both took a long drink, sealing the deal. They both turned to each other at the same time, breaking out laughing in sync, the sound breaking the tension that had somehow formed around them. Emily, feeling more at ease than she had in a long time, sat back in the booth, finishing off her beer. Deciding she'd better not drink anymore, she ordered a soda water when the bartender came around again to ask if they wanted anything else. JJ did the same, both of them in silent agreement that it would be a bad idea to drink when they were both exhausted and still needed to drive home.

"So Emily," JJ started once the new drinks were delivered, "tell me something about yourself I don't already know."

The brunette thought about that seriously, then leaned close, JJ doing the same instinctively.

"I've never told anyone this before," she whispered, "so you can't say a word to anyone."

JJ nodded, taking this as seriously as she appeared to be, although Emily was sure her expressive eyes were giving her away.

"Some people know I'm an English geek. I'm a fan of the classics, of Shakespeare, and of obscure writers only a total nerd would read, or have even heard of. What no one knows is that behind my collection of first edition Chaucer's, Faulkner's, and Frosts, there is a secret stash of incredibly trashy romance novels dating as far back as the late 1800's."

Of all the things JJ had expected her to confide, that had obviously never occurred to her, and soda water went spewing across the table. Emily tried, really tried, not to laugh, but she couldn't stop herself. JJ mock-glared at her, grabbing the napkin she held out as a peace offering and wiping off her face and clothes.

"You really have hundred-year-old romance novels?" the blonde asked after only another moment of trying to maintain the facade of annoyance. Emily nodded solemnly, trying once again to hold back the mirth.

"Exceedingly trashy ones," she corrected seriously. That did it. JJ burst out laughing, and Emily joined her, enjoying the sense of camaraderie she was sharing with her companion. She noticed the bartender look over at them, clearly wondering what two FBI agents could possibly be talking about that was that funny. The poor man had no idea.

"So it's your turn," she commented, still chuckling. JJ considered that, although the attempt at seriousness was marred as she started hiccupping. Emily clapped her on the back until the hiccups stopped, then waited. The blonde thought for a few minutes, then looked up, leaning over to whisper, "Even Garcia doesn't know this, so if I ever hear anyone talking about it I will track you down and shoot you myself."

Emily nodded earnestly, knowing better than to take the threat too seriously, but nonetheless finding herself excited at the prospect of sharing secrets with JJ. She'd never really had anyone to share this kind of "girl talk" with, and it was fun to have it now.

"Well," JJ murmured, still speaking directly into her ear, "Every time I have to do a press conference and someone asks a question that really catches me off guard or hits a nerve, I imagine Hotch and Gideon doing the Macarena behind all the reporters. I swear it works every time."

Emily had put down her drink, having the good sense not to have anything in her mouth based on the wicked gleam in JJ's blue eyes, but she still found herself choking somehow, the mental image apparently short-circuiting her brain. The idea of the stiff, stoic Aaron Hotchner and the reserved, sometimes even cold Jason Gideon dancing the Macarena at the backs of a mob of reporters was so absurd that even her very vivid imagination was unable to quite cope with it.

"That... is so... twisted..." she gasped out, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. JJ laughed right along with her, leaving them both turning red, then almost purple. The bartender actually came over then and asked if anything was wrong, which just set them off again. He walked away quickly, almost as if he were afraid they were infected with some deadly disease and he would catch it, which only made it worse. They finally managed to stop, so drained by their mirth that they were slumped against each other. Companionable silence fell, broken by an occasional chuckle, and Emily felt herself starting to actually drift off a little.

"I don't think I've laughed like that since I was a little girl," she said softly, reluctant to bring the mood down but wanting JJ to know just she'd done for her, "In fact, I don't know if I've ever just... let go that way."

"Well, I'll have to think of some more stories then," JJ replied, apparently unperturbed by her sudden sobriety, "and next time, we should bring Garcia. Between the two of us we'll have you rolling on the floor crying for mercy."

Emily chuckled lowly, reveling in the calm surety of a "next time." That nagging little voice tried to tell her she probably shouldn't be slumped down in a booth at a bar with a coworker, but she shrugged it off. JJ was no better off. In point of fact, the younger woman's head was resting against her shoulder, and she seemed content to stay there for now. Emily once again decided that it wasn't worth listening to that voice. She finally had a friend she could just sit and enjoy herself with, and she was going to revel it while she had it. She wasn't naive. She knew nothing was perfect or eternal, but for the first time in a very long time, she was just Emily, and she couldn't help but notice she rather liked that person. Apparently JJ did too, and that was important.

"Thank you for tonight, Emily," JJ whispered, startling her out of her almost melancholic reverie. She glanced down at the blonde agent, meeting the blue eyes that had turned to meet her own.

"No, thank you. This was fun."

JJ nodded slightly, and the brunette smiled, seeing how tired her companion really was. She looked so young like this, she noticed, but that took nothing away from the person she knew JJ was.

"We should get home," she murmured softly, loath to end the evening. It seemed a shame to make JJ get up and drive when she was so clearly exhausted and relaxed, but she had the sense that if she let her... friend... fall asleep now, she would be in no state to drive at all. She seriously considered driving the blonde home herself, wondering if she would be offended by the offer. Neither of them were in the least bit drunk, especially after the time since their beers, but sometimes exhaustion was worse than intoxication, and if JJ got into an accident...

"JJ, give me your keys," she commanded gently, that last thought making her mind up for her, and the blonde looked up at her blankly for a long moment, then understanding crossed her face.

"I'm not drunk, Emily." she replied, but it was more of a statement of fact than an objection. Emily sighed and nodded, but still she held out her hand.

"No you aren't, but you're falling asleep sitting up. I don't want you getting into an accident driving home."

The other agent might have tried to argue, but then she stopped, looking up into the older woman's dark eyes. Emily thought she must have seen the fear there and figured out where it was coming from, because in the next moment JJ's car keys were being pressed into her hand. She smiled, more than a little relieved by the capitulation to her request. She helped JJ to her feet, noticing that the woman was swaying on her feet, yet more evidence of her exhaustion. She quietly paid their bill and fetched their coats, guiding her charge to her car and settling her in the passenger's seat before getting in on the driver's side and strapping in, needing to push the seat back to compensate for the difference in their heights. Only then did it occur to her that she wasn't exactly sure where JJ lived.

"JJ..."

The blonde chuckled, hearing the unspoken question. She gave directions, which Emily wrote down rapidly, deciding that while she usually had an excellent memory, she didn't want to risk getting them lost. JJ was mostly silent during the drive, and after a while she glanced over and smiled, realizing she had fallen asleep. Her directions had been perfect though, and before long she was pulling into the driveway. She quietly parked and went around to the passenger's side, helping JJ out of the car and into her home, patiently asking her where her room was. She tried to offer to give her the nickel tour, but Emily refused, half-carrying the exhausted woman to her room and helping her lay down, helping her take her shoes off and settle the covers over herself.

"How are you going to get home, Emily?" JJ asked tiredly, already nearly asleep. Emily smiled affectionately, impressed that the woman was still conscious, much less thinking about her welfare.

"I'll call a cab to take me back to my car, don't worry."

"You could stay here..."

Again Emily smiled, tempted to accept, but she decided against it. She was awake now, or at least as awake as she could be, and she didn't want to impose on her new friend.

"Shh, JJ. Get some rest. I'll call a cab and drive home. It'll be fine."

"Call me tomorrow then," the blonde insisted sleepily, "so I know you got home okay."

"I will," she promised, smoothing the blankets again, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, JJ. Thank you so much for tonight."

She saw a faint smile cross the blonde's face, and the blue eyes opened somewhat.

"That's what family does, Emily. So any time you need an ear, or two, you know where to find me."

Emily rolled the word over in her mind, and for the first time it made her... happy. This is what family should be like, she decided, mutual support without strings or price, and that was what JJ had given her so easily tonight.

"The same goes for you, JJ," she whispered, kneeling down so her friend would hear the words, "Any time at all."

JJ caught her hand and squeezed it as she rose, and Emily returned the gesture. She started to leave, knowing that if JJ weren't asleep already, she would be shortly, but then hesitated and pulled out one of her cards, which were very, very new, and quickly wrote her cell phone number and a quick message on the back, setting it on the other agent's nightstand, weighted down by the gun JJ had unclipped and set there. As she reached the door she turned back and smiled warmly.

"Sweet dreams, JJ."


	3. Sadism

**Sadism: The tendency to derive pleasure, esp. sexual gratification,**

**from inflicting pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.**

**Date and Time: Unknown**

**Location: Unknown**

Emily woke up slowly, pulling and clawing herself out of a nightmare of darkness and agony, only to feel herself pinned by a weight across her waist and something on her shoulder. She almost panicked, but something held back the flood of terror that threatened to drown her, and she decided that opening her eyes would be a good first step. She did so slowly, some instinct making her wary. She was glad of her caution moments later when the dim lights of wherever she was seemed to sear her retinas. She waited a few moments before trying again, this time with more success, but once again she was forced to close her eyes again, and this time she used the time to think. She knew that her kidnap and subsequent torture had happened. That much was burned into her memory, but there was something else that she couldn't be sure was reality or fantasy. She hoped it was the later, because if it weren't... well. She'd deal with that if it came up. With that terrifying thought at the fore of her mind, she opened her eyes, and this time she was able to keep them open, though she had to blink hard a few times. Her view was hazy, but it sure didn't look like the bomb shelter she'd been trapped in for almost a week. That wasn't immediately reassuring, however. That didn't eliminate more than one potential hell, nor was it conclusive proof she was free.

"Mm..."

She frowned at the whisper of sound right next to her ear, which seemed to have come from the weight on her shoulder. Blinking slowly, she turned her head, her eyes, probably so weak because of disuse, she decided, barely able to make out the shape of a woman's face. As she adjusted to the dim light, and to seeing, she was able to differentiate between tanned golden skin and strands of hair ranging in color from platinum to almost amber. Her eyes widened as her brain, muzzy and unfocused, she noted absently, made the leap to knowing who the owner of that face, and that hair, was. She glanced down, assuring herself that the warm, living weight around her waist was an arm, and the pressure against her side was from a body pressed against her own. She sighed inwardly, but then the panic returned. All she had ascertained so far was that Jennifer Jareau was laying next to her. That didn't mean either of them were safe, despite the lack of restraints and the relative comfort of the bed she was on. Fear cleared some of the fog, and the adrenaline rush gave her the strength to shift slightly, ignoring how much moving hurt.

"Mmm..."

Again that soft murmur derailed her thought process, taking the worst of the edge off her fear, keeping it at bay while still allowing her to utilize it. As she forced her eyes to focus, she realized that the dark shapes scattered around the walls of the room were those of her teammates, and her heart beat faster. She had to believe Samis wouldn't go to the trouble of capturing all of them, and no one looked injured or restrained. She sighed silently again, laying back and letting her eyes focus further. Finally she looked above her, finding the unmistakable monitors and wires that always meant hospital. Now that she looked she could see the IV in her arm and the bags that fed into the tubes, and from there into the needle embedded in her vein. Banana bag for nutrients and a glucose solution to stabilize her blood sugar, her brain supplied, which again indicated hospital. Samis wouldn't have gone to the bother, would he?

"Emily..."

The sound of her own name got her to turn back to JJ, but the woman was apparently still asleep. As she looked at her team again, she realized that they were really all there. Rossi was propped up in a chair in the corner to the left the door, Hotch opposite him in the right corner. Garcia was leaning against Morgan to her left, the man's arms wrapped protectively around her, and Reid was on his own near the window to her right. And JJ...

"Hmm..."

Emily watched her friend as she breathed slowly and apparently fell back into a deeper sleep, taking in the dark shadows around her face and how pale and gaunt she looked from this range. She frowned worriedly, but it looked more like exhaustion than torture and starvation. She was grateful for that. She was well aware that she had compartmentalized all too effectively this time, and that she was somewhere between shock and dissociation, but in the end she really didn't care. Which was part of the problem of course, but she knew that she hadn't completely succumbed, because she was capable of feeling and aware of her emotions, and she was most definitely experiencing the relief of knowing that JJ was safe. If she had woken up to find that JJ was being tortured as she had been, she thought she would have shattered, but her mind clung to the very real weight and warmth of her friend's body like the lifeline it was. As long as JJ was safe, as long as her team was free, she could hold on. She felt her whole body tensing in response to that remembered terror, but she was once again distracted as JJ stirred, lifting her head up and blinking tiredly. The first thing she did was look down at her, Emily noticed, then she froze as she realized Emily was awake and looking back at her.

"Emily... oh thank God... please tell me I'm not dreaming this."

Emily blinked slowly, realizing slowly that her friend wanted, even needed, a verbal reply. Struggling against an instinct that had been almost all-powerful during that week of hell, she forced her brain to form words, having to work hard to remember how to give them voice.

"Jennifer..."

The single word was almost inaudible, and she frowned again, feeling the rawness of her own throat, remembering idly that sometimes electric shock did that. Screaming would too, but she knew she hadn't screamed. If she had, she'd be dead, like the others. JJ must have seen something of the fear the thought triggered, because she reached out, cupping her face in one hand. Only then did she realize that the other woman was holding tightly to her other hand.

"You're safe now, Emily," JJ whispered soothingly, her fingers brushing her hair behind her ear, "I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

For the first time in at least a week, plus however long she'd been unconscious, or at least she assumed she'd been unconscious, she wasn't afraid. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to push back the worst of the fog again.

"How... how long?" she rasped, hoping JJ would understand. Of course she would, she reminded herself. Since the first day they'd met, Jennifer had understood her.

"We found you four days ago," the liaison replied, watching her eyes widen.

"How bad?"

Here Jennifer hesitated, but Emily knew she wouldn't lie to her. She was just trying to find the right words, the ones that would tell her both the good news and the bad without sending her into a panic. She wished she could explain that it was all right, that she wouldn't shatter, but the reality was that she didn't know if those words would be true, so she didn't say them.

"Bad, Emily," JJ started at last, her blue eyes, bloodshot and dull, filled with pain and what might have been tears, "He cracked a few ribs and caused some internal bleeding. You had a bleed in your brain they had to drain the day we found you, then again two days ago, but that ended up being for the best. It turned out it was the pressure of the fluids on your brain that was causing a lot of problems for your body. It was touch and go for a while, but they figured it out. They even managed to avoid having to shave your head to do it. That was a big concern."

A single tear tracked down JJ's pale face despite the attempt at a joke, the hot liquid falling onto Emily's shoulder.

"I was really worried about you," she whispered, obviously holding back more tears. Emily tried to smile reassuringly, but she knew her face wasn't cooperating. Next she tried embracing the younger woman, finding that while she couldn't lift her right arm, her left would cooperate, even if it wasn't exactly how it normally was. JJ apparently saw the struggle and smiled tearfully, bringing up the hand she still held and pressing it to her chest.

"He did some damage to the nerves in your hands and feet, but it's not permanent. Actually, the doctors did some tests yesterday and said it was mostly healed. They told me you had lost a lot of muscle, though, and you would have to work to get it back."

That explained a lot, and it made perfect sense. Being starved and dehydrated for six days could do that to a person. It still didn't get her what she wanted, though, so she slowly and carefully freed her hand from JJ's. Seeing the hurt in her blue eyes, she reached out again, tugging weakly on the blonde until realized what Emily was asking. She hesitated a moment longer, probably about to say something about her being injured, but she tugged again, more insistently this time, and JJ gave in, burying her face in her shoulder and sobbing freely. Knowing her friend as she did, JJ would feel guilty for breaking down as soon as the worst of the storm had passed, so she rubbed her back as well as she could and struggled again to find the words she needed. The effort was almost too much for her, but for Jennifer, it was worth it. Whether she knew it or not, the woman had saved her life.

"Jennifer... it's okay," she whispered, hating the way her voice sounded like it belonged to a woman thirty years older and in the habit of smoking a couple packs a day, "It's okay to cry... let it out."

After a moment of once again trying to hold herself in check, JJ did let go. As she cried, Emily felt something within herself come loose, like a tight knot finally coming undone, and to her surprise tears started falling from her own eyes. As the salty fluid fell she felt as if a little of the horror she'd experienced, and witnessed, was starting to be cleansed from her, and while each tear was like a drop being taken from the ocean, it was something. At some point JJ's sobs eased off somewhat and she had taken her head from the crook of Emily's neck. Now she was looking down at her with such an incredible mix of relief and gratitude that the brunette was overwhelmed by her own emotions for a moment. The flood was gone as quickly as it had come, and far too fast for her to give names to all the emotions, but she knew without a doubt that this woman had kept her alive for ten days, and she didn't think she could ever repay that debt. JJ smiled tenderly, wiping the tears off her own and reaching over, taking a damp washcloth from somewhere and rubbing it over her face. Once again Emily felt as if she was being cleansed one drop at a time, but this time it was Jennifer purifying her, and somehow that was so much better. She wasn't alone any more.

"Jennifer... I think I'm falling asleep," she whispered faintly, realizing only as she said it that it was true. She had obviously exhausted whatever reserves her body had managed to regain, and while she didn't like the weakness, she could live with it as long as she knew she would never wake up in that place again. And of course JJ understood.

"Just promise me you'll wake up again," the blonde whispered, "and I'll promise that I will be right here next to you, and you won't ever wake up there. Never again, Emily."

She felt herself starting to smile, tugging at muscles in her face that had gone stiff and sore with disuse, but the expression on Jennifer's face told her she'd managed this time.

"Of course I'll wake up, Jennifer," she replied teasingly, or as close to that as she could, "What sane person wouldn't with that kind of incentive?"

JJ had the good manners to blush at her admittedly lame attempt at humor, earning another weak smile from her friend. Before letting go of her grip on consciousness, though, she turned to Hotch, meeting his hawk-like gaze. He rose and strode over, moving silently so as not to wake the other agents.

"It's good to see you awake," he murmured softly, and she nodded, knowing he was sincere. Still, she had to make things right, even if it was in only one small way.

"Hotch... you need to make sure everyone rests. As in goes home. There's no reason for them to stay here."

She felt JJ stiffen and start to object, but the older man held up a hand, fixing Prentiss with his intense stare.

"One of our family was hurt, Agent Prentiss. We have every reason to be here. And today of all days no one should have to be alone, although many people will be."

Emily and JJ both frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. JJ, who had more reason than her friend to know the date, gasped suddenly, tears inexplicably rushing to her eyes again.

"Emily... it's Valentines Day."

The brunette had to think about that for a few minutes, wondering at the significance. If it hadn't upset JJ so badly, she might have just given in to the exhaustion that was weighing down her mind and body, but it had, so it mattered. Finally the holiday registered, as did the reason it had made Jennifer so sad.

"Go, Jennifer," she whispered intently, almost slipping back into the darkness against her will, but she rallied with the same will that had kept her together during her torture, "All of you should go. Be with your friends, family... anywhere but in a hospital on a day like today. Please go."

Again Hotch held up a hand, holding back what would have been a vehement refusal from JJ.

"Prentiss, I assure you that if anyone wishes to leave they may. In fact myself and Rossi will be leaving shortly to go back to Quantico to file our reports. JJ, I'm going to make sure you and anyone else who wants it is given all the vacation time they need."

Once again Emily was confused, then a little afraid as JJ suddenly released her hand and got up, moving to stand in front of the unit chief. When she suddenly threw her arms around him, Hotch started, then carefully wrapped his arms around his crying press liaison, looking over her shoulder at Prentiss, who looked both confused and touched. He was uncomfortable with displaying affection, especially with members of his team, but JJ needed this, and he decided in a way that Prentiss did too. She was stubborn and willful, and yes, almost reckless, but she was also incredibly loyal. If she didn't see that JJ was getting the support she needed, she wouldn't allow her friend to support her. If that happened... well, it wouldn't be good. So he allowed the embrace and calmed JJ as best he could before guiding her back to her bed.

"Thank you so much, Hotch," the blonde murmured, hopping up and resuming her place at Emily's side, wrapping a protective arm around the barely conscious agent.

"Of course," he replied gently, patting her shoulder, "Call me if you need anything, or if something comes up. I'll keep my phone on."

He turned his attention to his wounded agent, giving her shoulder a light squeeze, gratified to notice that she didn't shy away from the contact. That was a good sign. It wouldn't be good if she would only trust JJ. Behind him Rossi was rising, straightening his clothes and looking for all the world like he'd never been asleep.

"If you need anything, at all, you know how to reach me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Emily nodded, but he could tell she wasn't really aware of much. He smiled faintly and glanced at JJ, who was watching her friend with eyes both affectionate and protective. She was in good hands, and he felt better about leaving.

"You'll tell her when she wakes up?"

The blonde nodded, and he patted her arm before turning away, clapping David on the shoulder and striding out with the older man a step behind him. JJ watched them go, but already her attention had shifted. Emily was asleep again, but this time she wasn't worried her friend wouldn't wake up. Besides, it was only just after five in the morning. No one should be awake if they didn't have to be. She used the time and silence to finish filing her report for this case, wanting very badly to just be done with it, as well as to halfheartedly check over a few new cases she had been asked to review for the BAU. Right on schedule, Nathan and Emily's doctor appeared to give her the mandatory morning checkup. They were quiet, respecting the FBI agents' need to rest, but for all that they were thorough as always. No doctor or nurse ever skimped on Emily's care, she'd noticed, and for that she was grateful.

"So she woke up this morning?" Dr. Kelso asked softly when JJ related the morning's events. She nodded, and he smiled, more than a little relief in the expression. She'd known he'd been worried that Emily's prolonged unconsciousness was a sign of some internal damage they hadn't detected, and hearing that his patient had come to, even if it was only for about ten minutes, and she'd been able to speak and think reasonably coherently, must have taken a huge load off his mind.

"The fact that she was so coherent tells us that her brain used its rest period effectively," he explained, as always ensuring that JJ knew what was going on with her 'charge', "which is a very good sign. Most trauma patients wake up very confused and disoriented at first, and sometimes they aren't able to speak at all."

"She was disoriented," the blonde remarked, remembering the fear and haziness in her friend's eyes when she'd first awoken, "And I think she was awake for a little while before I was. I think she probably had time to figure out where she was, otherwise she would have been terrified. I did notice that she didn't seem to be able to see very well, and she had to really work to talk."

He nodded, making notes on the chart he held.

"That's pretty normal. Your colleague is very strong-willed, Agent Jareau. I don't think I have to tell you how incredible it is she survived what she did. Now that she's woken up, she should be past the worst of it physically. I'm not a psychiatrist, so I can say nothing of her mental state, but medically, she's on the mend."

JJ nodded, but she heard how worried he was. She was too, if she were honest. Emily hadn't been all there, and while she knew her friend was good at coping with things that would have sent most people into a panic, this was different. She didn't believe anyone could "compartmentalize" what the brunette had suffered. She certainly couldn't. It wasn't the worst torture she'd ever seen, but it was the first time she'd seen it done to someone she cared so much about. Reid's torment had been horrible, but this had been worse, in her mind at least. It had been for longer, and with much more directed cruelty. And it was Emily... brave, brilliant, strong Emily who had always been so steady, so sure. And here she was, wounded, barely recovering from everything, and still she was taking care of the team as best she could. Emily had wanted them to go live their lives, almost as if...

"Oh my God," she whispered, realizing what it had sounded like. Emily was too strong to die, too strong to give up or scream even when that worthless piece of shit tortured her to within an inch of her life. And yet some part of her seemed to believe her life and well-being was less important than her team having a good Valentine's Day.

"Agent Jareau?" the doctor asked worriedly, gesturing for Nathan to steady her. She had paled dramatically, and she looked very sick. The nurse took her pulse and watched her with growing concern at the racing blood he felt in her wrist.

"Agent Jareau?!"

The blonde shook her head, broken out of a very disturbing, very dark train of thought. She had enough experience with victims and their families to know what that kind of thinking lead to, and that was where Emily was right now in her head, whether she realized it or not. Fortunately for her, she was surrounded by profilers who understood the psychological impact of torture and also cared a great deal for her. And she had JJ.

"I'm all right," she reassured the two men, noticing that their voices had roused her teammates, "I just realized something. Don't worry, I'm really okay. So, Emily's doing okay."

They glanced at each other, and Dr. Kelso nodded to Nathan, who retreated to his side, but they both still looked concerned.

"She's doing as well or better than we could have expected physically. As I told you before, the patient's mind is always a factor in recovery, and Agent Prentiss clearly has quite the will to live."

At that JJ smiled, giving her friend an affectionate look.

"Emily has a lot to live for, and I think she knows that. I certainly hope she does."

"She better," Garcia commented, standing up and moving to her side, taking her hand, "and if she forgets, we're all here to remind her."

The two medical professionals had to smile at that. They hadn't expected a team of federal agents to be this close, and this protective of each other, but there they were. The blonde especially watched over their patient with an intensity and focus they rarely saw.

"Okay, good. Well, we're done here. We'll be back later, and you know who to call if she needs anything."

Nathan and Dr. Kelso left, leaving the BAU team alone. JJ sighed softly, looking down at Emily again before looking up at her colleagues, her family. She would need their help to ensure her friend's survival, and she hoped Emily would understand that they were going to help her, because almost inevitably she would have times of despair that she wouldn't want to live through. The key was making sure she got through them, and that until the worst of those waves had passed, she was never alone. JJ wasn't stupid. She would be there as much as possible, but she wouldn't always be able to be there. She wouldn't go back to work without Emily, though. She knew Hotch would see to it that she wouldn't have to, but there would still be times she'd have to away from her friend. Even things as simple as grocery runs and that sort of thing had to be planned for.

"We'll help, JJ," Reid commented from Emily's right side, having watched the play of emotions across her face. He stepped up nervously, his eyes strained with remembered pain. He had relived his own torture watching that damned video, but because of that he had come to a decision. He had isolated himself from the team, had refused to let them in until it was almost too late. Ethan and Gideon had pulled him out of it, but he had never quite forgiven himself for the way he'd treated Emily, who had really tried to help him despite his attitude. He'd never apologized to her, or let her know he understood what she'd tried to do. He didn't want her to go through the same thing he had, and he definitely didn't want her to shut them out the way he had.

"All of you helped me back then, even when I didn't want you to," he remarked softly, giving voice to thoughts he'd been having since Emily had disappeared, "No one should have to go through that alone. I didn't have to, but I tried. It was... it was stupid of me."

It was difficult to admit that, they all knew, but JJ was touched that he'd made the effort.

"Thanks, Spence. I mean it."

He smiled shyly and stepped back uncertainly, running a hand through his messy hair. Morgan smiled faintly, and Garcia grinned at him.

"And of course you know I'm in," the tech goddess chimed in, hugging JJ gently, "Emily is fantastic, and she's family. She's been hurt enough."

JJ smiled at them all, although her gaze was colder when she looked at Morgan. The dark man bowed his head, then looked back up, his face incredibly sad.

"You know I'll do anything to help. I just hope she'll forgive me..."

The other agents all looked at him, Garcia and Reid wishing they could offer comfort, but in all honesty they were upset with him too. After a quick look at JJ, the tech analyst did hug him, but he could feel that it wasn't nearly as warm as it usually was. He didn't blame her.

"Well, I have this idea that could help cheer her up a little bit, but I'll need your help to pull it off."

She quickly outlined her plan, and while Reid was a little embarrassed by the whole thing, he readily agreed to play his part. The team scattered, leaving JJ alone with Emily again. She called Nathan in, pumping him for information she needed. He quickly figured out what she was asking and why, and soon enough he was gone again, a wide smile on his face. She raced through her remaining work this time, wanting to get as much finished as she could while Emily was asleep. By the time the brunette started to stir in the late evening, everything was in place and she had gotten through a significant chunk of her pending workload. She was watching this time as her friend came to, and saw the fear, the disorientation, and the momentary panic as Emily realized she was there next to her, and she was prepared for it.

"It's okay, Emily," she whispered soothingly, stroking her hair back and tenderly cupping her cheek, "I've got you. You're safe. We are safe. And we have a few things we want to give you. Do you think you could sit up a little for me?"

Her companion tried, but it wasn't until JJ and Reid helped her that she managed to straighten up. Morgan propped the bed up for her so she wouldn't have to support herself, and they helped her lean back until she was comfortably upright. Prentiss gave Morgan a long look, and the lithe young man looked back, his gaze so guilty and self-loathing that even JJ almost took pity on him.

"Derek..." Emily started hesitantly, visibly trying to sort through her memories and find what she wanted to convey to him. Finally she sighed, the liaison easily able to see how intensely she was concentrating to do something they all took for granted.

"I can't say I'm glad you were too busy flirting to notice I got grabbed," she stated firmly, sounding almost like her usual self, but JJ could see the toll it was taking on her, "but the fact is, Samis had decided he was going to get me one way or another. He was prepared to kill anyone who got in the way. I'm almost grateful you got distracted. According to him, that woman saved your life."

"What are you saying?" he asked, his tone full of both fear and hope. The brunette sighed, and JJ felt her starting to tremble with the strain of speaking like this, and about this particular subject.

"I'm saying that I don't consider you responsible for what happened. He got me because he had a knife to a woman's throat. When I got an opening I almost had him, but I couldn't let that woman die so I could get away."

Dark brown eyes glazed over then, and the blonde gently squeezed her hand, anchoring her to the present. They all knew that woman had ended up dead in the end, and one of the things they would have to address was that it wasn't Emily's fault. She had almost lost her life trying to protect her, but her fate had been sealed. Today wasn't about that, though. Today was about getting her to smile, and, if only for a moment, maybe even to forget.

"Emily," Derek whispered, stepping forward and hesitantly holding out his hand. Emily nodded, allowing him to embrace her carefully, although she clearly wasn't strong enough to return the hug with any force.

"I am so sorry, Emily..."

"Don't be sorry. Just don't do it again."

The simple statement sounded so much like their Emily Prentiss that they all chuckled, even Morgan, despite the tears on his face. He pulled back after a moment, looking at his teammates. He knew they were still upset, and with good reason, but the fact that Emily had apparently forgiven him went a long way.

"Okay, enough with the serious talk!" Garcia declared suddenly, startling Emily into looking over at her. As she did her eyes took in the sudden color filling the room, and she blinked, trying to reconcile the image with how the room looked when she'd first woken up. The flowers and decorations were all new. The room looked more like a Valentine's supply store than a hospital room.

"What is all this?" she asked weakly, unable to keep her voice strong and even any more. One look into JJ's reassuring blue eyes told her it was okay, that she didn't need to keep up a facade, and that was enough for now.

"Just be our Emily," JJ whispered in her ear, reminding her of a conversation they'd had more than a year ago. She gave her friend a small smile, letting her know she remembered.

"So, we have presents for you!" Garcia went on, outwardly oblivious to the exchange between the two female agents, "Mine first though!"

Emily turned back to her, raising an eyebrow at the huge basket Garcia set on the bedside table.

"What is this?" she asked again, taken aback by the change in the room and the festive atmosphere her friends were managing to give the sterile hospital.

"That, my lovely lady, is everything you're going to need to keep yourself busy while you recuperate. I got trashy tabloids, puzzles, comic books, crosswords, board games, and even some romance novels just for kicks!"

Dark and light eyes met, and this time Emily's smile was wider. JJ was the only one who knew about or had ever seen her secret stash, but they weren't about to say anything about that now.

"Thank you so much, Garcia," she answered sincerely, wishing she were physically strong enough to dig in now, but knowing she had neither the energy or concentration for anything remotely intellectually challenging right now. She was more clear-headed this time, but with that came a price. She remembered more clearly too. Shaking off her dark thoughts, she turned to Morgan, who handed her a small wrapped package and two cards.

"Happy Valentines day. Motor-mouth here forgot to give you her card, and that's mine too."

She opened Garcia's card cautiously, and true to form it immediately started blasting out the song Too Sexy. She managed a soft laugh, shaking her head. The words were simple but sweet, wishing her happiness and reminding her how loved she was. Morgan's card was a little more toned down, but once again very sweet. She held them out to JJ, who smiled and set them upright on her bedside table where she could reach them. Next she opened the gift, another smile crossing her face at the contents, an autographed first-edition of Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. She waved the dark man over, hugging him as best she could, which wasn't well.

"I guess it's my turn now," Reid mumbled, and handed over a card and another gift. The card was unsure but kind, like Reid himself, and more than anything else she appreciated the effort on his part. Spencer Reid was not a master of these sorts of things, but he had tried, and that was the sweetest thing he had ever done for her. She gave him a hug too, whispering a very sincere thanks in his ear. He backed away blushing, but clearly touched. His gift was a CD he had clearly burned and hand-labeled, with a song list on the back of the case. The artists were varied, and she realized that while some of them were songs she liked, many of them had to be from his personal collection, or songs he had heard that he thought she'd like.

"Thank you, Reid. This looks great."

He blushed again at her compliment and backed away a little further, clearly unsure of what to do now. She smiled at him, then started to turn to JJ, but then the door swung open and Hotch came in, looking just a little harried, but also almost smug.

"I hope I'm not too late to take my turn."

Emily stared at him, and he smiled a little, holding the door open. To everyone's surprise, Haley Hotchner strode in, looking uncertain at first. When she saw Emily she rushed forward, embracing the dark woman tightly.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked when Haley pulled back, wiping tears off her face. She hated how raspy and weak her voice sounded, but there was just nothing she could do about it.

"Aaron called and told me what happened. He asked if I was willing to fly down here to visit you, and of course I said yes. How are you feeling?"

The brunette considered that, then shrugged slightly, trying for a wry smile.

"I've certainly been better, but I'll live."

Haley gave her a piercing look not unlike an expression she'd seen on her supervisor's face, and she knew that her bravado hadn't worked. She shook her head, unwilling to break the mood.

"Don't worry. I've got my family to look after me."

The statement made Haley smile, and she watched her turn, giving Hotch a long, considering look. When she turned back her eyes were tear-filled but content.

"Yes you do."

"And if you forget it, you've got plenty to remind you," Rossi observed, coming in as he spoke. Emily looked around at everyone, feeling, not for the first time, just a little closed in, but at the same time there was a safety in having everyone there with her.

"And now it's my turn," JJ murmured, clearly able to see that Hotch and Rossi had done and said as much as they were going to right now. She took something off the table and handed it to Emily, surprised by the almost reverent way her friend unwrapped it. Inside the paper was a leather-bound photo album she'd put together to give to Emily after she'd found out she'd gone missing, knowing from experience that she'd need something uplifting. It was the one thing she'd done during those six days that hadn't been directly related to finding the older woman, and she had decided now was as good time as any to give it to her.

"Jennifer..."

She watched the play of emotions flicker across her friend's face as she looked at the pictures. Some were from outings and barbecues they'd had with the team, some were single shots, others of groups and pairs. Each picture had a little label with the date and a little comment telling the reader where the pictures had been taken. When Emily looked up at her with those expressive brown eyes full of tears, she smiled gently and wrapped her arms around her, holding her as she cried softly, one hand stroking her hair. Once the storm had passed she looked up with a tired smile, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room.

"Thank you all so much. I think this is the best Valentine's I've ever had."

"Now that's just sad," Garcia muttered, shaking her head in apparently sincere disapproval, "Once we get you out of here and get you all better, I'm going to see to it you get a proper party. And next year, well..."

She trailed off, but they all knew her mental wheels were spinning.

"Should I be scared?" Emily asked the woman at her side in a stage whisper, and the blonde laughed.

"Probably."

The team broke out laughing, even Rossi, who had been there long enough to be familiar with some of Garcia's eccentricities. As if summoned by the sound of laughter, Nathan slipped in, carrying a couple of bags in one hand and balancing a tray with the other. Morgan hurried to relieve him of the heavy paper bags, leaving him free to set the tray down in front of Emily with a little flair.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, trying to figure out who the strangely familiar young man was.

"Well, your friends asked me what you'd be able to eat and if I could get something for you. So..."

With a mock bow, he pulled off the cover, revealing a surprisingly tasty looking plate of steamed vegetables, soft bread dyed red and cut into little hearts, and a bowl of light broth. On the side were two chocolate hearts, which he informed her were raspberry truffles.

"I love raspberry... truffles..."

She trailed off, fixing JJ with an incredulous stare.

"You remembered?"

The blonde laughed and nodded, gesturing to the tray.

"Of course I did. And just so you know, this is Nurse Nathan Khee. Our team got him justice for a friend of his, although we didn't know it at the time, and he's been kind enough to help us all out while we've been here."

Emily smiled at him, and he grinned, waving slightly.

"Agent Jareau asked me if I'd be willing to pick these up for you, and of course I was glad to help. Valentine's Day isn't just for lovers. It's for family, in a way."

With that he slipped out, embarrassed by what he'd said. Morgan chuckled at his abrupt retreat, handing out the bags he'd been carrying.

"He brought food for everyone, it looks like. Oh, and Emily," he turned to look at the wounded woman, grinning mischievously, "I think he has a bit of a crush on you and JJ."

Emily snorted softly, waiting until everyone else had their food before carefully lifting her stronger hand and spearing a very tender carrot.

"I don't doubt he could have a crush on her," and she gestured at JJ with a slight tilt of her head, "but I've been unconscious for four days and I'm sure I look like hell warmed over. I doubt he'd develop a crush on me."

Before Morgan could think of anything to say, JJ leaned over, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Actually, Emily, you're way too hard on yourself. I think you look beautiful."

The blonde's tan skin colored at the looks she got from the team, but Garcia readily backed her up, followed by Morgan a second later. She got the impression, however, that Emily hadn't even heard them. Her eyes were fixed on JJ's, her pale cheeks a little red.

"You think I'm beautiful, Jennifer? Now, of all times?" she asked, the question masked from the others by a boisterous argument that had sprung up between Morgan and Reid about some favorite food or something to that effect. JJ was surprised by the intensity behind the question and almost made a joke to break it, but as she looked into Emily's dark eyes she realized how important this was to her friend.

"I've always thought you were beautiful, Emily," she replied, her tone and expression just as serious as her friend's, "and that's certainly true now. I don't think anything could take that away from you. But right here, right now? I don't think I've ever seen anything so amazingly beautiful as you are when you're smiling. And knowing everything you went through, that smile is even more incredible."

There was stillness around them for a few moments, as if the two bickering men and the others didn't exist, then Emily let out a soft sigh and rested her head on her shoulder, leaning into the touch as JJ gently wiped away her tears. After a moment she looked up, a sweet, shy smile on her face that she hadn't seen even a glimpse of in too long.

"Thank you for believing that," she whispered, "It really means a lot."

The blonde smiled back, wishing she had a camera to capture that expression in a picture. She blinked as a sudden flash of light blinded her, looking up to find Garcia hurriedly hiding a digital camera behind her back, looking guilty. Suddenly Emily burst out laughing, and after a shared glance JJ joined in, catching on to the joke.

"You better be planning on giving me a copy of that picture, Garcia," Emily rumbled, her voice once again more like its normal self, "because if you don't, I'll have to hunt you down for it."

The tech analyst grinned and nodded earnestly, and that apparently settled the issue. Things got more or less quiet as they all turned their attention to food, including Emily, who, now that she'd relaxed, realized she was really very hungry. She knew better than to rush, though. Her body hadn't had anything but IV nutrition for ten days, and she knew the food she'd been given by the nurse had been very carefully chosen to keep from upsetting her digestion. The vegetables were so soft they almost melted in her mouth, the broth was bland, but not so much so that it was unpalatable, and the bread, when dipped in that same broth, went down easily enough. She was very full by the time she'd finished the small portions, but she was not about to waste good chocolate.

"So, did Nurse Khee happen to mention where he was getting these from?" she asked curiously, and JJ grinned.

"He did, actually, since I told him to tell Garcia where to go. I would never get you anything but the best chocolate, Emily Prentiss. That'd be like giving you a six dollar bottle of wine."

The brunette laughed lowly, putting a truffle in her mouth and feeling it melt, the explosion of flavor properly overwhelming to her deprived senses, and she actually moaned aloud, not caring that Hotch and Rossi were still there, or that Haley was in the room. When she remembered she blushed but Rossi just looked amused, and Haley and Hotch were looking at each other, Haley with understanding and Hotch with bemused tolerance. Garcia understood, of course, and Morgan just shook his head. Reid was blushing and looking anywhere but at her, which made her smile again. She picked up the other chocolate treat, considered, then turned, pressing it to JJ's lips. The press liaison took it, grinning appreciatively, then moaning herself as she tasted the finest chocolate DC had to offer for only the second time in her life.

"I must have done something very right for you to give that up," she mumbled, and Emily laughed, ducking her head a bit to hide the blush she wore.

"You did, Jennifer. Believe me, you did."

"All right, crazy women," Garcia interrupted, drawing the two women's attention, "since no one saw fit to share any chocolate with me, I'm going to go fetch some of my own."

With that, Garcia strutted out, Morgan in tow. Reid mumbled something incoherent and followed, and Rossi left a few minutes later when his cell rang.

"It's good to see you smiling, Emily," Haley remarked into the quiet, and three pairs of eyes turned to her. She shrugged, glancing over at Hotch before looking back.

"I can't stay, since I left Jack with my sister and she has to work tomorrow, but I'm glad I was able to come see you. Take care, Emily. If you need anything, Aaron can always reach me."

She stepped out, but both women saw the way she quickly grasped the unit chief's hand on the way out. He followed her out, giving his agents a small, sad smile as he went. Once they were alone, Emily sighed, closing her eyes tiredly.

"You know, I love all of them, but they're really exhausting in a group," JJ commented, putting words to the thoughts Emily herself had been having. She nodded slightly, and her friend smiled as she saw how close to just falling back asleep she was.

"I have one other gift for you, Emily, if you think you can stay awake long enough."

The brunette chuckled faintly, opening her eyes and giving her a teasing look.

"Ten days without a cup of coffee and you'd be falling asleep too, Jennifer," she grumbled, but her eyes gave her away. JJ didn't call her on it, but she didn't need to. She'd noticed something else, too. Emily hadn't stopped calling her Jennifer. Not that she thought she should, but it was interesting to her that every time she called her that, those expressive eyes seemed to be full of shadows and fear. It was like using her formal name somehow grounded Emily against the trauma and its aftermath.

"Probably," she agreed, but her thoughts were still racing. Almost no one called her Jennifer any more. She introduced herself as Jennifer Jareau, but always added that most people called her JJ. Actually, the only person who'd called her Jennifer in a long time prior to this was Emily. She could think of only once, actually, when Emily had introduced her to the daughter of their UnSub, Stanley Howard, who had been using people's fears to kill them. Even Garcia generally called her Jayj or JJ.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked after she'd been silent for several minutes, and she looked down at her friend with a smile.

"Don't worry about it, Em."

The brown eyes didn't waver, and she sighed, realizing that Emily was going to make herself stay awake if she thought something was bothering her. The woman was incredibly sweet for thinking of everyone else's welfare, but just this once she wished her friend was a bit less selfless. If she had been, she wouldn't have been caught in the first place. A horrible thought, yes, but a true one.

"I was just thinking about how different it is to be called Jennifer. Ever since I was a little girl everyone has called me JJ, even my parents."

A slight frown marred Emily's tired face, causing a little crease to appear between her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry if I-"

"No, Emily, don't apologize," she cut in gently, shaking her head, knowing what her friend was going to say, "That's not it at all. It's just that it seems to help you, and I was just wondering why. I have absolutely no objection to you calling me Jennifer."

Her companion's frown deepened, and she straightened up a bit so she was looking JJ in the eye. The blonde sighed to herself, knowing this was about to become a rather serious conversation and she really wasn't sure Emily was up for it. On the other hand, she knew her friend wouldn't just let it go. She wasn't very good at that.

"I don't really know," the brunette began, pausing a moment before going on in a thoughtful voice that did nothing to mask the pain and remembered terror, "I remember when Samis was telling me all about what he was going to do to me, I had already figured out that I'd have to fight to survive, and that I'd need something to hold on to, something I could focus on while he did... what he did. While he tortured me. And the first thing I thought of was you. You are definitely the best friend I have, and we've been through a lot together."

JJ nodded her understanding, but stayed silent, waiting for Emily to gather herself enough to go on. She had heard the way her friend's voice had hitched at the mention of Samis and the torture she'd suffered, but in true Emily Prentiss fashion she was pushing herself forward. The woman never gave up. It came at a cost though. Her eyes were dull and distant, and her hand, wrapped tightly in the blonde's, was trembling.

"The first time he just beat me. Apparently that had been enough for the other women. I could tell he was surprised. As I passed out I remembered that first day we met, when you had formally introduced yourself halfway through our first briefing. I remembered thinking back then that Jennifer was a beautiful name. That memory kind of stuck in my head, I guess. It's because of memories like that, memories of good times, that I held out. You saved my life. If it hadn't been for my memories of our time together, I think I would have given in."

The press liaison smiled, but the expression was sad and her eyes teary.

"I don't know, Emily. I think you are by far the strongest person I've ever known. I certainly couldn't have lived through..."

She trailed off as Emily's expression changed and her already pale skin turned bone white.

"Emily?! Emily, what's wrong?!"

"You know exactly what happened, don't you?" the brunette asked, sounding more than a little faint all of a sudden. JJ frowned, wondering what she meant, then paled herself, realizing what Emily was talking about. She didn't know about the video. No one had mentioned it, of course. That would have been extremely awkward, to say the least. She tried to think of something to say, something to take away the devastation ripping across her friend's face, but in the end she realized that, horrible as it was, she'd be better off telling the truth. At the very least Emily would know they understood, or so she hoped.

"Samis... Samis sent a link to a video recording to the BAU," JJ explained haltingly, hating the words only worsened the horror on her companion's face, "He apparently recorded... everything."

"You mean his 'sessions,' don't you?" Emily broke in, her voice devoid of emotion, "and you saw it. You saw it all. Did everyone else."

"Uh... Garcia didn't. She couldn't watch it, and Hotch basically told her not to. The guys all did, though."

Dark brown eyes closed, and JJ was afraid she'd either passed out or had retreated into her mind. For several impossibly long seconds she was frozen, terrified that this had been the last straw Emily's fragile psyche could take. When those eyes opened again, she breathed, realizing only then that she had been holding her breath. The dark brown depths were glassy and unfocused, but they did seem to be alert and aware.

"That's what today was all about. You guys know what happened, and you wanted to take my mind off it."

JJ was surprised by the sudden calm in Emily's voice, and some of her previous fear returned. It was still possible her friend was dissociating, and that would not be good. With as delicate as her physical health was, any upset could tip the scales the wrong way.

"Something like that," she replied cautiously, "It is Valentine's Day, after all. We all kind of needed to have a little fun, but yeah, we mostly did it for you. We wanted to give you a chance to laugh a bit, and some reminders that we're all here for you, and that as much as possible, we understand."

Emily was silent for a while, and JJ was afraid she'd be angry, or worse. When her gaze focused on her again, she clearly was angry, but not at the team.

"I can't believe that son of a bitch did that," she hissed, her face a study in passionate rage, "It's bad enough he put me through what he did, bad enough he may have left me scarred for life and, if I can't pull through this fear, cost me a job I care a great deal about. No, he had to hurt the people I love on top of it. He had to hurt you! That god damn piece of-"

The wrathful brunette abruptly cut herself off, breathing deeply. JJ cast a concerned glance at the monitors, noticing, as Emily must have, that her heart rate was getting dangerously high. Adrenaline was helpful enough in some cases, but very dangerous to a woman in her condition. After waiting for her take several slow, deep breaths, JJ reached over and poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the tray table she'd been using, helping Emily to sip it slowly. She was a little surprised by how rational her friend was about all this, if she were honest. Emily had clearly not been talking about the physical marks when she'd mentioned scars, after all. She was a profiler. She knew that when a person suffered a trauma, it left an imprint in their soul, something that couldn't just be washed away. It had to be lived with and fought through, until it was just a scar that sometimes itched a bit, but could be managed. Right now it was a raw, bleeding wound as dangerous, if not more so, than anything left behind physically. And she was right. If she didn't learn to live with the fear and the memories, it could cost her the assignment she was so dedicated to, and maybe even her position in the FBI.

"Emily," JJ murmured once her friend had calmed down a bit more, "you'll get through this. I know you'll find a way to heal. You've gotten yourself this far. You can't think about losing everything when you've already fought through so much."

Blue eyes searched familiar brown pools, looking for some thread of connection, something she could pull on that would start her friend down the right path. Much to her surprise, it was Emily herself who found it.

"I know I have a long way to go," the brunette stated softly, "but you're right. I can't think like that. I guarantee I will, in the dark hours of the night when the memories get to be too much... but there's always the new day. What's that saying? 'It's always darkest before dawn?' I think I get that now. I just... I can't do this alone, Jennifer. I'm not strong enough. I survived that hell because I had something to hold on to, something to make living worth the pain. If I lose that..."

"You won't," JJ replied firmly when she trailed off, her blue eyes full of fire now, "I won't let you. None of us will. I promise you, Emily, we won't let you suffer alone. You might hate us sometimes, but I for one can live with that, as long as you're alive."

Emily smiled slowly, her body starting to relax and her heart rate slowing to a more normal rhythm.

"Sometimes working, and practically living with, a bunch of profilers can be a real pain, but times like this, it's worth it. Unlike most people, I know I have people who understand what I'm going through, and people who care enough to remind me."

"People who love you," JJ corrected with a soft smile, "We're family, remember?"

The older agent nodded, letting her friend guide her head down to rest against her shoulder, once again feeling exhaustion settling into every line of her body.

"Speaking of family," she remarked after a few minutes of peaceful silence, startling JJ a little, "I had this dream, which I only remember because it wasn't like all the other nightmares, which I know really happened."

"What kind of dream?" JJ asked cautiously, hoping it wasn't something too terrible. She already had an idea, though.

"I thought I heard my mother's voice."

The blonde nodded, absently reaching over to stroke her friend's dark hair as she spoke.

"Ambassador Prentiss wanted to whisk you off somewhere, just like you told me she would. Between me, Hotch, Agent Rossi, and you, she didn't have a chance."

"Me?" Emily asked, startled, "Wasn't I unconscious at the time?"

"Yes," she replied, her lips curving up into a smile as she remembered how she'd felt when Hotch had handed her those two pieces of paper, "but as it turns out, you signed both an advance directive and a power of attorney giving me authority over your medical care if anything happened. Don't you remember? Hotch said it was after the Milwaukee case."

The dark woman thought back, then blushed faintly, not quite able to meet JJ's blue gaze.

"Yeah... I remembered how upset you were then, and I got to thinking that if he had caused more serious damage, or if something else happened, my mother could have just come in and done as she wished, and my... family... wouldn't have had any say. I decided that if anything happened, the person I trusted most should have the law behind them. I didn't want to risk, say, being knocked into a coma and you... and the team... not having any idea what was going on or where I was. I knew with those papers in my file you'd be notified, and you wouldn't keep the team in the dark like my mother probably would."

"And you trusted me to take care of you if something like that did happen?"

The question came out both pleased and a little incredulous, and Emily picked weakly at the quilt covering them both, sighing quietly. When she spoke JJ realized she'd misinterpreted her meaning but she couldn't think of how to respond right away.

"I should have asked you, I know, but I did it, and then never got a chance to tell you. I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize," JJ whispered softly, gently lifting her friend's face so they were eye to eye again, "Please don't apologize for that. I would have been glad to know, but only because it would have been reassuring that something had been put in place. If you had asked, I'd tell you what I'm about to say now: I'm just so glad you trust me that much. I know all of us have understandable trust issues. After all, we see the worst humanity has to offer on a daily basis. It's such a relief to know that you believe enough in me to do what you did."

"Of course I do," Emily retorted, looking surprised that she'd doubt it, "Jennifer, ever since I joined the team you've been the best friend I could ask for. If I had to place my life in someone's hands and plan to come out of it alive, you're the first person I'd think of, every time, no matter what the situation. Clearly I was right. Look what you got me through this time. If I can survive something like this, how could I possibly not trust you with my life?"

JJ blushed darkly, earning a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow from her companion. She took a moment to get herself together, more overwhelmed than she could have imagined by that impassioned speech. Just because Emily's usually fluid voice was raw and strained, it lost none of its power. If anything, the fact that she'd made the effort to say all of that when it was so clearly difficult only heightened the effect the words had on her.

"Emily, that is very possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," she whispered softly, hugging her taller friend as tightly as she dared, smiling when the other agent returned the embrace as well as she could, "and I promise to do whatever I can to never betray that. Now, you need to rest, but I still have that last present for you."

"You don't have to give me anything," Emily objected, her voice and body already starting to give in to sleep as the last of the unexpected adrenaline rush drained out of her body, "You've done so much more than enough, and I certainly don't have anything to give you."

The blonde turned from whatever she'd been doing, fixing Emily with the most intent stare she'd ever seen on her friend's face.

"Emily Prentiss, I'm going to ignore the first part because you're one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, and you'll just try to force yourself to stay awake to argue about it. As for that last, you've already given me the greatest gift you could. You're alive and right next to me, alive and as well as can be expected. As if that weren't enough, you entrusted me with your life. I can't think of anything more precious than that. So be quiet and let me give you this so you can go to sleep and start to get better."

Deciding that Emily was suitably cowed, she turned away, finally finding the bag she'd asked Garcia to bring stuck part way under the bed. She freed it carefully, then pulled out the object she sought, holding it behind her back as she straightened up. The brunette was watching her with mixed affection and awe, and she decided she was rather proud of herself. She'd been taking her cue from Garcia on that one. Those little speeches of hers could break through the most obstinate of heads. Even a head as thick as the one belonging to a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed, thickskulled profiler, apparently. Garcia would be so proud.

"Close your eyes, Emily."

The brunette blinked once in confusion, then good-naturedly closed her eyes. JJ was once again almost overwhelmed by the display of trust, but she wanted to get this done so the poor woman could get some sleep. Even her massive strength of will was losing against her exhaustion. She carefully freed her hand from Emily's, causing the other woman to frown faintly, but then she pressed something soft into it.

"Okay, open your eyes, Em."

She did, although it was something of a struggle, and looked down, a charmed smile spreading across her face. JJ had given her an extremely soft teddy bear in a shade of rich, chocolate brown so dark it was almost black. Emily stroked its "fur," her expression warm and touched as she looked up at her friend.

"Thank you."

JJ had never thought two such common words could mean so much. She tilted her head, wondering if anyone had ever given her a gift that had been bought just for her. It was hard to imagine that Emily hadn't been showered with gifts, both as the daughter of high-profile diplomats and as a woman, but looking at her now she wondered. Emily always reacted so strongly to the simplest of things. Maybe she hadn't been given things bought just for her, with no motive other than to bring a smile to her face. It was sad, but seemed likely when she remembered the various conversations she'd had with the older agent about her life as the Ambassador's daughter.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Emily," she murmured, hugging her friend gently before adding in a more commanding tone, "now get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

The brunette smiled wearily and closed her eyes, hugging the stuffed animal to her. JJ smiled at the sight of the tough FBI agent cuddling with the little bear, then the smile widened as Emily, already mostly asleep, reclaimed her hand, bringing it up to rest on her pillow. The blonde sat awake for a while, just watching her sleep, alert for any sign of the inevitable nightmares. They came, but she was ready for them, and she quietly eased her friend back to more peaceful sleep each time. For tonight, Emily would be safe. When Hotch returned, he took up his post near the door, this time with Morgan on the other side. Reid, Garcia, and Rossi had returned to the motel to sleep, but they would be back tomorrow, the unit chief assured her. With the two agents on guard, JJ finally let herself sleep, secure in the knowledge that they wouldn't let anything happen. It was great, she decided as she drifted off, to know you had family you could always count on.

**Date and Time: February 11, 2007, 01:55**

**Location: Emily Prentiss' Condo, Outskirts of Washington D.C.**

The ringing of her cell phone jarred Emily out of a restless sleep, and she fumbled for the device, checking the caller ID. When she realized who her caller was, and how late the hour was, she answered the call immediately, her heart racing as she mentally listed the possible reasons for the call.

"Hello?"

When initially she heard nothing, her heart started pounding even harder.

"Hello?! JJ? JJ, are you there?!"

"Yeah," her friend answered finally, and Emily let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, "Yeah, I'm here. I'm sorry to call so late... I should really let you get back to sleep."

That told her a lot. It meant that there wasn't a new case, that it wasn't a BAU-related crisis, and no one was dead or dying. What it didn't tell her was the reason JJ was calling her at two in the morning.

"No, it's okay," she was quick to reply, "I wasn't exactly sleeping well anyway."

She waited, and while she could hear JJ breathing a little harshly on the other end of the line, the blonde didn't say anything for a long moment.

"JJ?" she asked softly, "What's wrong?"

"It's so stupid," the press liaison muttered, and she could just imagine the slightly irritated look on her face, "I should go. I'm sorry to wake you up."

Before her friend could hang up, she stood, already in motion as she said, "JJ, no. Don't hang up. Tell me what's wrong."

There was a long pause, then the other agent replied somewhat weakly, "I... I just... I can't forget what happened in Georgia. I can't sleep. I... I shouldn't have called. It's no big deal."

Emily shook her head, then sighed, realizing JJ couldn't see the gesture.

"If you're calling me at two in the morning, it's a big deal," she answered softly, keeping her voice low and soothing, the tone she'd used when they'd found JJ in that dark, bloody barn surrounded by the corpses of dogs and the mangled pieces of a woman they'd devoured, "and I want to help if I can."

Again her friend was silent for a few long moments, then, "I don't know what to do, Em. Every time I turn the lights off I can hear those dogs... and it all comes rushing back. And I see Reid getting beaten and how he looked when we found him, and the video of the murder..."

By now Emily was dressed, her gun, purse, and keys in hand, and not entirely sure how or when she'd decided on her current course of action.

"JJ, do you want me to come over so we can talk about it?" she asked, then added bluntly when her friend hesitated, "Don't answer based on how you think I would feel, because I'm more than willing. Honestly, yes or no?"

"Yes."

The word came out in a strangled sob, and that was all she needed. She was out the door and heading for the stairs, then down to her car.

"I'm on my way, then. Stay there, and if you need anything, you call me right back, okay?"

She heard JJ's soft affirmative, then another faint sound that she recognized immediately.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, JJ. And remember, absolutely anything you need, you call."

With that she hung up, getting into her car and driving as fast as she dared. JJ's home was a ways away, but she got there in record time, even with the two stops she'd deemed necessary to make. Her firm knock on the door was met with an almost instant response as her friend all but threw the door open, taking one long look at her before hugging her tightly, sobbing into the sweatshirt she wore. Emily sighed, resting her head against JJ's pale hair. She'd known JJ had been upset, and had even offered to let her stay in her guest room, since she really didn't think her friend should be alone right now, but she'd assured the brunette she was fine. Emily had let it go reluctantly, hoping Garcia would have more success than she had. Now she regretted not pushing harder, not insisting, but she hadn't felt she had the right.

"Come on, JJ, lets get inside, then we can talk about it, okay?"

She led the distraught woman inside, closing the door behind them and guiding JJ to the couch, vaguely remembering the placement of the furniture from her previous visit here. Once the worst of the sobs had passed, the blonde looked up at her with bloodshot eyes that were suddenly full of guilt.

"Oh God, Emily, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to just fall apart on you like that."

Emily shook her head, reaching into one of the bags she'd brought and pulling out a box of tissues, opening it up and handing one to her friend. JJ took it, still looking guilty, and blew her nose. She held out the box, and the younger woman took another one, wiping off her face.

"Don't apologize. We all have to fall apart sometimes," she remarked soothingly, rubbing her companion's back gently, "I'm just glad I can be here for you."

"God... I can't believe you drove all the way out here in the middle of the night," JJ exclaimed suddenly, staring up at her in more than a little awe, "What were you thinking? It's not that big a deal, and you must be exhausted!"

Emily smiled, well versed in the ways of stubborn women, considering she was one herself.

"I'm your friend, JJ," she pointed out calmly, "this is what friends do."

The blonde shook her head, about to say more, but she wouldn't let her.

"This is not about me. Coming here was my choice, and you didn't force me in any way. Now, take some deep breaths and then try to tell me more about what's wrong."

The liaison gave her a long look, clearly thinking of arguing some more, but as her arm shifted she winced a little. Emily frowned, looking down at the bandaged limb in question.

"How's that doing?" she asked, noticing as she looked closer that it looked like JJ had been trying to take the bandage off.

"Oh... well..." and now her friend looked a little sheepish, as well as guilty, "The paramedic told me I should probably change the dressing to something lighter after a couple days, so it could 'breathe,' as he put it. I just couldn't seem to get it loose."

A dark eyebrow rose, making JJ's blush deepen.

"Where's your first aid kit?"

The look she gave her colleague brooked no argument, and JJ pointed toward the kitchen, where the kit was already open on the table. She stood, bringing the blonde with her so they were standing over the kitchen sink while Emily carefully worked the bandage off, tossing away the dirty gauze and taking some supplies out of JJ's kit.

"This will sting a bit," she warned, then she was carefully washing and disinfecting the bite wounds, noticing as she did that they were relatively shallow, and that the paramedic who had worked on the injuries had done a good job of cleaning them up. They looked like the were healing well, and probably wouldn't leave more than a faint scar.

"Sorry," she said when JJ winced at the harsh sting of the alcohol. When she was finished she dried the area, then wrapped it lightly in gauze so it would stay clean but still be able to "breathe."

"Where'd you learn to do that?" her friend asked curiously, giving the wound a cursory glance. Emily chuckled, taping the gauze into place.

"I've gotten more than my share of scrapes and bruises, you know," she replied absently, checking over her work, "and if I didn't want my parents to know about them, I had to take care of them myself. Never thought those skills would come in so handy though."

JJ chuckled at that, probably imagining a younger Emily taping herself up, but she tilted her head, seeing something in her friend's expression that made concern enter her tired blue eyes.

"Emily?"

The brunette realized she'd been staring at the floor for a few minutes now and looked up, searching JJ's face.

"I was just wondering something," she explained softly, trying to find the words that couldn't be misinterpreted, "and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but why did you call me?"

Seeing that JJ was, in fact, taking the question the wrong way, she shook her head, taking hold of her friend's shoulders.

"I don't mind at all, so don't think that. It's just... you know everyone else on the team so much better. I've only been here a couple months, and while I'm certainly glad you felt comfortable enough to call me, I just want to be sure I'm the right person."

Understanding flared in those pale eyes, and JJ smiled softly, the expression relaxing some of the tension in her face.

"I don't know why I called you," she answered honestly, "but I think part of it is that when we were in Georgia, you were the only one who made sure I was actively involved in getting Reid back. Everyone else, even Garcia, was too busy or, like Morgan, too upset, to give me something to do, to let me help. They all kept saying I should rest and let them take care of it. You, though, you got me out of that house, and actually seemed to remember that I was a federal agent, not some civilian who was in the way."

"JJ, you're a great agent," she reassured her firmly, seeing the doubt in her friend's gaze, "and I never once thought it was your fault Reid got taken, either. You got hurt too."

She glanced meaningfully at the arm she'd just finished treating, JJ smiled, but it was weak, and something seemed to still be troubling her.

"Does any of it ever bother you, Emily?" she asked suddenly, looking up to meet her eyes, "What we do, I mean. You said you compartmentalize, but... does it ever just..."

Emily flashed back to that somewhat awkward conversation where that had come up, sighing over her obviously inadequate answer and her memory of Hotch's strange appearance and the look he'd given her.

"Of course it gets to me," she replied softly, unable to keep a trace of hurt out of her voice, "It's just that... I've seen a lot of things traveling with my parents, and I learned a long time ago that I couldn't show any weakness, because my parents' enemies would use that. It doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. I break down too, JJ. I go home and I have nightmares and sleepless nights, and days where I wish I could just get so drunk I can forget it all, and days that I don't want to get up and go into work. But I do, because if I don't, it'll be someone else, and I worked too hard to get to the BAU to give it up because of something that can't be avoided in our line of work."

"So how do you handle it? How do you face every day and never flinch?"

With another sigh, she took JJ's arm and led her back to the couch, sitting down with her there.

"I focus on finding the UnSubs," she started carefully, wondering how to explain something she'd been taught to do so long ago that it was instinct now, "I think about all the people they won't be able to hurt if we find them, and on figuring out what I can do to make it easier for the victims and their families. Everything else gets locked away in boxes until after I get home and I can sit down with a glass of wine, put some music on, and just let go a little at a time. Sometimes I stare out my window for hours, looking out over the capital of our country and wondering how people can do the things they do, and how our government can be so powerless in comparison."

She shook her head, looking down at her hands.

"It's never easy, JJ, and it's an imperfect system, but I do what I have to do so I can function at my job. Every time it seems like it's a little harder to box it all away, a little harder to get up, but when it's like that, I find something to hold on to, something to fight back against the horror we see every day."

"Like what?"

Emily lifted her head, meeting JJ's curious, haunted blue eyes. She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling her friend all of this. She'd never told anyone about any of it, but here she was, telling this woman things she had kept secret for years.

"Sometimes it's something as simple as listening to Morgan harass Reid and flirt with Garcia. On those days I watch them interact and it's enough to make me smile. Other days, I need more. Those days, I might read one of those horribly trashy novels I told you about, or even something like a children's fairy tale. I've long since known better than to believe in princes riding in on white horses to save the day, but the fantasy is nice. It reminds me that I do this so other people can believe in the dream, so they won't have to see what we do."

She shrugged, grateful when JJ stayed quiet, sensing there was more.

"On really bad days, I just do whatever I can to get through, then go home and break down, and those times all I have is the knowledge that eventually the day will be over, one way or another. After days like that, I sit in bed and force myself to remember the good in my life. I remember that I'm still alive to face another day, that I'm healthy and comfortable, with more money than I care to have or will ever need, and then I think about the most important thing of all, something that always manages to pull me through in the end."

"Which is?" JJ asked softly, hanging on her every word. Emily felt her expression soften, and she gently put a hand over the younger woman's, relieved when she returned the gesture.

"In some small way, I'm doing good. I'm helping to make a difference with a group of people I come to respect more every day, people who I think of as family. People like you, JJ. When I feel like the world is just too far gone and it's all pointless, all I have to do is think of that to remind myself that there is something worth putting ourselves through hell for."

"Is it worth it?"

The blonde's voice wavered as she spoke, and Emily smiled sadly, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulders, drawing her closer to offer whatever comfort her touch could.

"I think so, but you have to decide that for yourself. You've been doing this longer than I have, and maybe once I'm less new at it, I'll start doubting. Until then, I'll do whatever I can to put these guys away so they can't hurt someone else. I told you, JJ, it's not a perfect system, but for now, it's enough."

She hesitated, then added softly, "You have to ask yourself if the reasons you go into work are better than the reasons not to. No matter what you choose, though, I know it'll be the right choice for you, and that's the important thing."

"Would you... would you think I was weak if I couldn't handle it?" JJ asked, the words so quiet Emily had to strain to hear them, "I don't want to leave the BAU, but times like this I get to thinking, what if I'm not strong enough? What if one day I really just can't take it anymore, and the reasons to do it aren't enough? Do you think the team would think less of me? Would you?"

The brunette tightened her hold on her friend, looking into her sad face with an expression so intense that JJ looked startled.

"I don't think anything could make me think less of you, Jennifer Jareau," she answered firmly, her voice so confident and full of fire that the blonde didn't dare doubt what she was saying, " After this last week or so, that's even more true. And while I can't speak for anyone else, I can tell you with absolute confidence that I would never see you as weak. I certainly wouldn't if you left the BAU, although I'd be sad to see you go."

She reached out hesitantly to smooth the disheveled blonde hair, relieved when JJ allowed, even encouraged the friendly contact as she went on.

"You sit in that office, surrounded by requests for the team, and you're the one who has to make the hard choices. No one could blame you for being overwhelmed by that. I know I couldn't do your job," she smiled suddenly, wanting to lighten the mood a bit, "I'd be running down the halls screaming after a day or two of that, and Morgan would have to knock me out to get me to shut up."

JJ laughed aloud, her body relaxing against the older woman's. Emily laughed too, deciding the embarrassment of the image was more than worth getting JJ to cheer up a bit. Not many people saw her more silly side, and it was nice to share it with someone.

"I could always handcuff you to the chair," her friend remarked, still laughing, "there would be no escape then, and it would save Morgan the trouble."

They were both laughing hard now, and they let the mirth ease off until they were both just chuckling softly.

"So what else is in those bags you brought?" JJ asked when they'd calmed down, apparently just now remembering the items in question still laying at Emily's feet. The brunette smiled and began pulling things out and placing them on the coffee table, watching appreciatively as JJ's eyes widened as she came up with two wineglasses, a bottle that had cost a couple hundred dollars, and a box that smelled of rich chocolate.

"Emily..." the blonde whispered, awestruck as she examined her offerings, "Where the hell did you get all this at 2 am?"

"I have my ways," she replied, intentionally putting a touch of aristocratic snobbishness in her tone before smiling and adding, "I know a few places that stay open at odd hours. I found out about them from my mother's staff, and occasionally take advantage of the information. This," and she pointed to the wine, "Is one of the best vintages I have ever tasted, and while I confess that I abused my mother's name to get it a bottle, I don't feel at all guilty. And these," now she indicated the chocolates, "are the finest truffles you could hope to find within a 500 mile radius."

When she saw JJ's skeptical expression, she grinned and opened the box, unleashing pure olfactory heaven. The blonde stared at her, which made her smile widen further. She would have another convert, if she didn't already.

"Try one."

With what she considered almost appropriate reverence, JJ took one of the treats and placed it in her mouth, closing her eyes in appreciation and letting out a moan that might have been embarrassing if she hadn't known exactly what the experience was like. Emily knew she looked more than a little smug when those blue eyes opened, but JJ didn't comment on that. She knew her friend had been right.

"Oh my god," she whispered once she had finally gotten the last possible bit of chocolate off her lips and fingers, "That was incredible. How is that even possible?"

"I've never been able to figure it out either," the brunette replied, unconcerned with her ignorance on the subject, "but I don't care. I'm telling you, these truffles, especially with the wine, are better than sex."

JJ looked at her expectantly, but with far less skepticism this time. With an expert twist of the bottle opener she fished out of the bag, she had the wine open and delicately poured into two glasses. The blonde gingerly picked up the glass and tasted heaven. She sighed, leaning back against her couch and savoring the experience.

"I think you may be right," she remarked finally, "and I have to tell you, Emily, I think you've just ruined any future dates I may go on. Unless someone else knows where to find this stuff, it'll always fall flat in comparison."

Emily laughed at that, taking a sip of her own wine.

"I think I've given up on dating," she commented, but there was no regret in her voice, "because really, I've never met a guy who understood my work, much less managed to treat me as well as I'm capable of treating myself, so really, why bother?"

"So do you share this with all your friends?" JJ asked curiously, taking another small sip of the fragrant wine. The brunette sighed, turning to look over at her.

"No. You're the first. I've never really been able to make friends I wanted to share things like this with. It's like... like a religious experience, almost."

She half-expected the other agent to look at her like she was insane, but instead she nodded, plucking another truffle out of the box.

"Emily Prentiss, you have officially spoiled me," the blonde stated softly, "and I thank you for that. And believe me, I get what you mean. Great wine and chocolate shouldn't be wasted on just anyone, so I'm glad you're sharing with me."

"Well," Emily replied, blushing a bit, "I figured you'd be able to appreciate it. Even my mother insists on the best of everything, doesn't seem to get it."

"Mmm..."

JJ swallowed the mouthful of chocolate and wine she had in her mouth, giving her friend a long look.

"Her loss, my gain."

Emily laughed, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each thinking her own thoughts. When she felt JJ sigh, she turned expectantly, knowing that they were finally going to get down to the reason she was here.

"I've always liked dogs," the blonde started slowly, looking down at the contents of her wineglass, "but Hankel's dogs were just... twisted. They had just torn that woman apart, and there was almost nothing left of her. When they came after me, I just fired without thinking, but I was so damn scared. Then you and Morgan found me, and I realized that Reid had been taken. I kept thinking that a man who could raise dogs to be so vicious was a man who could do just about anything. I know that must sound so ridiculous, but..."

"No," the profiler broke in when she trailed off, "I know what you mean."

JJ gave her a searching look, then nodded, apparently realizing that she did understand, and that seemed to give her the strength to go on.

"When you came into the bathroom later on, I almost shot you... I just kept hearing that growl, and I could swear I saw one of those dogs in the mirror behind me."

"I thought it was something like that," Emily replied calmly when those questioning blue eyes turned on her, all but begging for forgiveness, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned, but I never believed you would shoot me."

JJ nodded, relaxing as one of the many burdens she'd carried from the case was taken from her, and she leaned against her tall friend, taking another sip of wine before continuing.

"It just all kept going downhill. Reid was being tortured, everyone," she paused, then glanced up at her companion, smiling slightly, "well, almost everyone, was walking around on eggshells with me, if they weren't trying to ignore me completely, and all I wanted to do was help find him. I was so afraid we were going to lose him, and it'd be my fault, and... and then we were finally able to get to him, and he just looked so fragile, like a stiff wind would break him. I keep thinking we may have gotten him back, but he lost some part of himself back there."

Emily sighed and set down her glass, hugging her distraught friend warmly. The wine, chocolate, and laughter had relaxed JJ somewhat, as she'd hoped they would, but still she was so upset, so hurt.

"Let it out, JJ," she urged gently, "don't try to bottle it up. It's okay to let go. We got him, and if something is wrong, we'll help him get through it. You're the one who told me that the BAU is a family. He won't have to face this alone, and you shouldn't either."

JJ turned and buried her face in Emily's neck, once again crying helplessly. The dark woman held her tightly, wishing there were more she could do for both JJ and Reid. With an inward sigh, she realized that the brilliant Dr. Reid might not take too kindly to her efforts to help if she made any, but at least with JJ there was something she could do, and she was doing it.

"You know," she heard JJ mumble against her skin, her tone both raw and amused, "I think I got the better end of the bargain. Reid wouldn't appreciate chocolate and wine, and I seriously doubt he'd ever let himself just break down and cry on a beautiful woman's shoulder."

Emily laughed, startled by her friend's return to relatively good humor and mildly embarrassed by the compliment.

"Well, as you said before, it's your gain. And I think you're right. He wouldn't get what's so great about wine and chocolate. That's more of a... female thing."

JJ snorted, lifting her head to smile up at her, once again accepting the tissue she offered.

"I can't believe you'd drive all the way out here to sit here listening to my woes over wine and chocolate that must have cost way too much and then getting cried all over," the liaison remarked, holding up a hand before she could argue, giving her a soft smile, "but I'm glad you did. You're a great friend, Emily."

Unable to think of an appropriate reply, she just smiled shyly and offered the aforementioned box of chocolate truffles. JJ laughed and relaxed against her side, taking one of the treats and reclaiming her wine glass. Her eyes were still haunted, but Emily noticed that they were a lot lighter now, as if between the crying and just giving voice to her fears and worries some of the shadows had been lifted away. Emily picked up her own glass, holding it up for a toast. JJ smiled, and clinked her glass against the brunette's, both women remembering the last time they'd done that together.

"You and I should really get together more often," the blonde remarked after taking a sip, "and get Garcia out with us. We deal with doom and gloom all day, and sometimes all night. We need to take some time to unwind, and if anyone knows how to have a good time, it's Penelope Garcia. And you, Agent Prentiss, know damn well how to spoil a girl. Are you sure you weren't one of those princes riding around on a white horse in a previous life?"

Brown eyes widened, then Emily burst out laughing, running a hand through her dark hair, pushing it out of her face so she could see JJ more clearly.

"I don't know about that, but I don't doubt Garcia knows about having fun. Any time you want to go out, just give me a call. If I can go, I'd be more than happy to join you guys for a girls' night out."

JJ grinned, once again tapping her glass against her friend's.

"It's a deal."


	4. Empathy

**_Empathy_ : **The ability to understand and share the feelings of another

**Date and Time: February 17, 2008, 15:21**

**Location: Ruby Memorial Hospital, Morgantown, West Virginia**

"Checkmate."

JJ stared at the board, then up at her grinning friend, then turned to Reid, who was fixed on the black and white pieces.

"How did you..." he sputtered, shaking his head. JJ covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, but Morgan had no such compunctions.

"She beat you AGAIN, Reid. How does a normal mortal beat the super genius at chess, anyway? You losing your touch?"

The younger man looked up at him, clearly indignant, and JJ started to worry she'd have to break up a fight between the two agents. Emily distracted them both with a soft laugh, her voice still raw and raspy, but getting stronger every day.

"Hey Morgan, you want a game?"

The dark agent looked from the board to the dark brown eyes, then shook his head, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, if you can beat boy wonder here, I don't have a chance. I'd rather be spared that."

"Afraid your fragile male ego couldn't take it?" JJ teased, and he straightened to his full height, pointing a meaningful finger at her.

"You listen here, little lady. My male ego is quite secure, thank you very much. I just prefer not to go into something knowing I'll lose."

"Smart man," Emily retorted, giving JJ a wink. Morgan shook his head, knowing better than to say anything more. Those two were merciless as a team. He was just glad Garcia wasn't here to make it worse.

"I demand a rematch!" Reid declared suddenly, "you must have cheated!"

Emily stared at him, and the two watching agents could tell she was somewhere between amused and offended at the accusation.

"Emily did no such thing," JJ cut in, seeing that her friend was unable or unwilling to respond, "I watched the whole thing, and so did Morgan. You lost, fair and square. Get over it, genius. The woman is just too much for you to handle."

The brunette turned and grinned at her, looking for all the world like her usual self, but JJ wondered if she were the only one who could see the dark shadows lingering in her eyes and the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her muscles. Judging from Morgan's understanding gaze when she glanced his way and looks she'd seen from Hotch and Garcia, they weren't fooled either, but they wouldn't say anything. They had apparently decided to trust her to know when to call Emily on something, and so far she thought she'd done a fair job of it.

"In any case," she went on, "it's my turn to pick a game. I want to play gin, and that's what we'll do, once I go to the bathroom."

Emily laughed, but the blonde knew her friend was watching her leave. She put on a good face for the guys, but she was the one the older agent allowed to see at least some of her fear, and she could tell Emily wasn't entirely comfortable when she was out of the room. That was okay. She wasn't entirely comfortable being away from her either. She knew that should make her feel stifled or restricted or something, but it didn't. It just made her feel wanted, needed even. It also reassured her own mind that the woman was really alive, really safe, and not in the hands of some sadistic psychopath.

"JJ cheats at cards!" she heard Reid cry as she walked the short distance down the hall to the restroom, probably in response to something Morgan had said. Emily still didn't talk much, and when she did it tended to be in short bursts, at least with everyone else. With JJ she seemed to work at it, telling the blonde liaison a lot more than she did the other members of the team. That suited her just fine. As she finished washing her hands, a familiar sharp voice froze her in place for a second. She grabbed a paper towel, dried her hands, and hurried back down the hall, wishing she'd just used the restroom in Emily's room.

"Emily, don't be so stubborn about this," she heard Ambassador Prentiss command as she turned the corner into the room. Reid and Morgan were ranged on either side of their colleague, offering their support, but she didn't miss the quick look of relief on the two men's faces, or the tension in Emily's, when she strode in, resuming her place next to her friend.

"Is there a problem, Ambassador?" she asked politely, a gentle hand on Emily's shoulder. She could feel the stiffness of the muscles beneath cloth and skin, and a surge of irritation rushed through her, which she suppressed rapidly. Emily had finally started to relax more, and now the older woman's appearance had undone all the progress they had made.

"A problem?" the woman repeated, a pleasant, diplomatic smile pasted on to her face that did nothing to hide the frustration in her gaze, "I don't believe there is a problem, or there wouldn't be if my daughter would see reason."

"And just what would that be?" she asked softly, her voice and face settling into the mask she used when doing particularly difficult press conferences.

"Why, that she must immediately resign from the FBI and come home, where she won't be so much at risk. Look what has happened. What if next time she doesn't survive?"

She could feel the tension worsening under her hand, and she gently squeezed the shoulder she held, feeling Emily's eyes on her, trusting her. She didn't look away from the Ambassador, but she didn't have to. She knew Emily.

"Ambassador, Emily wasn't taken in the line of duty," she reminded the woman firmly, her fingers beginning to lightly massage the knots she could already feel gathering under her fingers, asking through the touch to be forgiven for what she was about to say, "She was stalked and taken by an obsessive sexual sadist. He would have found her whether she was working in the BAU or not. One of the women Jonah Samis killed was kidnapped from her parents' estate in Maryland, another from a friend's birthday celebration in DC. He had access to these places. You yourself are among those whose gatherings he attended regularly."

She fixed the woman with an intense stare when she might have spoken, holding up a hand to silence her.

"And believe me, none of us are unaware of the danger. If Emily were to leave the BAU, none of us would fault her for it, but so far she has shown no inclination to do so."

"Emily, you cannot seriously expect to return to work after all of this," the aristocratic woman broke in, looking intently at her daughter, "How could you be effective in your post after such a trauma? No, you must come home to recover, then we will find you something safer, something-"

"Mother, stop," the younger brunette interrupted, firm and clear despite her raw voice, "I cannot believe you would bring up my ability to do my job, of all things. You saw how devoted I am to the BAU when you came to us for help last year. I had hoped we'd reached some sort of understanding over dinner then, but clearly we didn't."

She paused, and JJ took the opportunity to hand her a cup of water, which she took gratefully. She could speak much more clearly and for longer periods than she could just a few days ago, but it still took a lot out of her and strained her healing throat.

"I am just trying to do right by you, Em," the ambassador was saying when she returned her attention to her, "I am, after all, your mother."

Emily sighed, taking comfort in Reid and Morgan's solid presence, but even more from Jennifer's gentle gaze and touch. Just as she had during that horrible six day period of captivity she reminded herself that the blonde wouldn't let anything happen, and held tightly to that. It was curious, her mind noted, that she likened facing off with her mother to the torture she'd suffered.

"No, Mother," she replied softly, "what you're doing isn't right. Coming in and trying to steamroll me isn't right. Trying to make me doubt my choices and my abilities isn't right."

"Now Emily," Elizabeth started, but her daughter shook her head.

"No. I will not resign from the BAU unless I find that I am no longer effective there, and even if that does happen, I will not be going back to your house with my tail tucked between my legs. These people are my friends, my family, and they were the ones who saved my life and took care of me all this time, not you."

"I tried!" the ambassador retorted sharply, "but these friends of yours would hardly allow me to see you!"

"Ambassador, you wanted to ship Emily to God knows where while she was still unstable," JJ replied lowly, her voice a warning, "and all that against her will. You cannot seriously believe we would have just let you get away with that!"

"I simply-"

"That is enough!" Emily interrupted sharply, too drained emotionally to even attempt to be properly polite. Her mother raised an eyebrow at her, shaking her head and giving a look that spoke of deep disappointment and frustration, as if she were just being obstinate and childish.

"Emily, once you're released from here, what do you intend to do? You cannot return to work for some time yet, I'm sure, even if you are mentally stable enough for it," and her outwardly diplomatic, reasonable tone indicated a hint of doubt at the possibility that further agitated all four federal agents in the room, "and I do not believe you should be alone in your condition. You cannot expect the members of your team to be able to provide you 24-hour care while you recover. They have very important work to do. It's unreasonable to demand that of them."

This new argument seemed to be getting through, which worried JJ. She knew her friend felt guilty about all the time the team was spending with her, as if they, including Emily herself, hadn't done the same when Garcia had been shot.

"Your concern is appreciated," JJ commented in a carefully pleasant voice, as if she were truly sincere. She saw Emily glance at her a touch nervously, and a thread of hurt ran through her at the thought that she would ever believe that JJ would just dump her off as soon as she had a chance.

"It's unnecessary, however," she went on, still pleasant, "I will be seeing to Emily's care until she's well enough to be on her own."

"Agent Jareau," and now that eminently reasonable gaze was turned on her, "that is a lovely offer and I'm sure my daughter quite appreciates it, but I doubt that the BAU can stand to lose two agents in such a short time. You surely would not want to risk your position over a situation that could so easily be avoided?"

"I am glad you have taken such an interest in my team's welfare, Ambassador," Hotch's voice cut in before JJ could reply, and the tall man followed it in, moving to stand beside JJ's bed, Morgan on his other side, "but neither Agent Prentiss nor Agent Jareau are in any danger of losing their jobs with the BAU. I have already processed the paper work for a medical leave of absence for your daughter, and paid vacation time for Agent Jareau. I am grateful that you are so eager to ensure their well-being, but things are already well in hand."

A low cough was the only warning of Rossi's arrival, and the older man leaned back against the wall to Emily's right, out of the Ambassador's immediate line of sight, which was good since he wasn't exactly making an effort to hide his smirk. Garcia appeared moments later, and JJ noticed that Morgan had his phone behind his back. She hid a smile behind her hand, once again grateful beyond words for these amazing people she called her family. She could see tears forming in Emily's dark eyes and reached over, lightly brushing them away when the Ambassador wasn't looking.

"Agent Hotchner..."

It was clear that the Ambassador had momentarily run out of arguments. She had obviously not expected to be faced with the united front of the BAU, despite the fact that she'd been warned. Maybe she had hoped to convince Emily while just the younger members of the team were there, unable to stop her.

"If you'll come with me, Ambassador Prentiss, I'll explain the arrangements that have been made in more depth."

Once again Hotch was leading the woman out of the room with Rossi falling in with him, and once again she was too stunned to object. Once she was gone more than one sigh of relief was audible, but JJ wouldn't relax until she was sure of where Emily stood on this.

"Emily?" she asked softly, worriedly taking in the slightly glazed look in her dark eyes. The brunette turned to look at her, her expression shifting and her eyes glistening with tears.

"Jennifer... I can't ask you to do that... maybe my mother is right."

"I can't believe you said that," the blonde retorted, but her voice was gentle, knowing where the doubt came from, "but your mother is wrong. Besides, you're not asking. You never would, anyway. I'm volunteering, and I'm happy to do it. We're family, remember?"

A tear fell from those dark eyes, and JJ glanced at Garcia, knowing she would understand.

"Come on, boys," the tech analyst called, pulling Morgan and Reid out with her, "I have a craving for real food."

Once they were gone, the blonde turned back to her companion, wiping the tears that were coming faster now away.

"Emily, you're going to be discharged soon, and I know you want to go home. I want you to let me stay with you and make sure you're okay, at least until you're strong enough to get around on your own."

She saw just a hint of fear, of doubt, in those familiar depths and silently cursed Elizabeth Prentiss for making her usually confident daughter doubt herself the way she was. She could read into that reaction immediately, and she had a pretty good idea what was going through her friend's mind.

"You should know I would never doubt you, Emily. Right now, though, you're hurt and you need help. You're the one who told me that we all do sometimes. You've been there for all of us. Let us, let me, be the one who's here for you now."

She could see she was starting to get through the walls the Ambassador and Jonah Samis had built up, and she gentled her voice even further, stroking Emily's dark hair in a gesture at once soothing and reassuring.

"Come on, Emily," she went on persuasively, "It's about time you had someone at your beck and call, someone who will pamper you for a change. You're always the one taking care of us, even if no one else really notices. It'll be fun, like a long-term sleep over. We can sit up eating junk food and gossiping and talking about those horrible dramas they have on TV lately. You could finally catch up on all that reading I know you've been meaning to do, too."

A slow smile crossed the brunette's face as she spoke, and as she paused to breathe, the older woman pressed a finger to her lips, keeping her from going on.

"Okay, Jennifer. You win. But are you sure you wouldn't rather stay at your place? I really wouldn't mind."

The press liaison shook her head.

"What I want isn't important. What's important is what you want. So would you rather stay at your apartment or at my place? Answer me honestly now. I think I know you well enough to tell when you're lying."

Emily pondered the question seriously. She liked JJ's home and felt comfortable in it, but there was just something about being in the place she'd cut out for herself, surrounded by her own things, sleeping in her own bed, that appealed to her. The thought reminded her of something though, and she frowned.

"There are stairs in my condo," she pointed out, "and my bedroom is up those stairs. I don't want to spend all my time in bed."

JJ shrugged.

"We'll figure it out, Emily. If necessary, we'll just have Morgan come and carry you up and down the stairs as needed."

"Hey now," the aforementioned agent complained, striding in with Garcia and Reid, "I have a life, you know. I'm happy to help, but Emily is already going to have you waiting on her hand and foot, and anywhere else that's needed. Isn't that enough for anyone?"

Garcia smacked him on the arm as she went past, and he rapidly backpedaled, or tried to.

"Uh... I just meant that-"

"I think we all know what you meant, Morgan," Emily interrupted, laughing, "and I think you're right."

That surprised everyone, especially JJ.

"You... do?" he asked, clearly confused. Emily grinned, but refused any attempt to get her to explain further. Instead she turned her attention to the meal Nathan appeared with, silently appreciating his impeccable timing. The others settled down to eat, as she'd known they would, and she relaxed as best she could, thinking about the best way to deal with her lack of mobility once she was back home. Before long her thoughts changed direction, instead focusing on the fact that JJ was going to be coming home with her. She knew she should have expected that, but she hadn't somehow.

"Emily?" the communications liaison asked softly, seeing how distracted she'd become. Emily smiled reassuringly, squeezing her hand, but before she could say anything a woman knocked gently on the door and came in, her badge and the clipboard she carried marking her as a hospital official. Her eyes, which swept the room before landing on Emily with an expression of gentle concern and intent assessment, made it clear she was a shrink. The brunette sighed inwardly, knowing this was procedure in cases like hers but still irritated by it. She also knew her discharge would depend largely on what this woman said, and she really wanted to get out of this hospital. Kind and respectful as the staff here was, she hated hospitals with much the same intensity as her teammates, and for at least some of the same reasons.

"Agent Prentiss?" the woman was saying, and she turned her attention back to her, taking in the steadiness of her forest green eyes and the confidence in her bearing. She was probably at least a few years younger than herself, she decided, and experienced enough to be sure of herself, but still young enough to not have been jaded or burnt out. That was promising. She also got the sense that the shrink was aware of being profiled by everyone in the room, and she admired her composure in the face of that. Most people couldn't be so relaxed in a room full of FBI agents, much less agents who did what they did. Her estimation of her rose a notch, and she sat up a bit, nodding in response to the admittedly unnecessary question.

"I'm Stephanie Cameron, one of the psychiatrists on staff here. Would you mind if we talked privately?"

Her gaze fell on JJ, who returned the look with one of her own, though Emily knew that was the stare she gave reporters when she had to make a good impression but didn't really like them. She wondered about that, but certainly wasn't going to ask in front of the doctor.

"No, of course not," she replied smoothly, giving the hand still in hers another squeeze, hoping it would help JJ relax. The blonde gave her a quick smile and stood up, moving slowly toward the door. She tried to ignore how her heart started to beat a little harder as her teammates filed out, hoping the monitors wouldn't give away her fear. JJ was the last to step out, turning to look back again. Emily gave her a warm smile, doing her best to convey her usual confidence and calm, despite the fact that the anxiety that always waited at the edges of her awareness was starting to push forward.

"Let us know when you're done, Dr. Cameron?" JJ asked in a voice that was just as much a command as a request. The shrink nodded, and with a last look at Emily she stepped out, closing the door behind her. The brunette turned her attention to the psychiatrist, watching her smooth her strawberry blonde hair where it had slipped out of the ponytail it was in, trying almost desperately to ignore the feeling of a massive weight pressing down on her chest or the cobwebs that were already forming in her head. The woman must not see how terrified she was without her team... without Jennifer especially. She could hold it together with her team. She felt safe with them, knowing that each and every one, even Rossi, would kill or die for her, as she would for them, but Jennifer was her anchor, the one who could banish the shadows back into the depths of her subconscious with just a look.

"So, I just have a few questions for you. As you probably know, we have to be sure you're safe psychologically as well as physically before we can discharge you," Dr. Cameron was saying, and once again she focused on the woman, forcefully disciplining herself to calm, "Now, most of this is pretty straightforward, so we'll start there."

They went through the standard questions about her state of mind, whether or not she had any suicidal or self-destructive ideation, how she felt about going home and about her work, and other routine, predictable questions she knew were designed to feel her out and determine whether or not she was mentally competent and stable. She answered carefully but honestly, knowing herself well enough to know that she was in fact competent and as stable as could be expected, but also aware that she must not come across to this doctor as an FBI profiler who knew how to fake her way through a test. She just wished this would be over. It was getting harder to ignore the panic that always threatened to overwhelm her when she was alone, even briefly, or when she was with a stranger.

"Well," Dr. Cameron remarked finally, setting her clipboard back in her lap and meeting her eyes, "You're clearly quite resilient, Agent Prentiss, and recovering well from your trauma. I just have a few more questions before I can finish my report."

Emily nodded, warned by her tone and expression that these weren't going to be so easy. At her nod she glanced down at her notes, then looked back up.

"You said you're reasonably confident in your ability to return to work in time. Are you sure that's the best course, and that perhaps you shouldn't seek employment elsewhere, or at least look for a different assignment in the FBI? Being exposed to the sort of things the BAU deals with could severely impact your ability to cope with your own trauma."

Hearing her mother's words being thrown back at her, albeit with more kindness and a very different agenda caused a surge of anger to flare up, which she carefully controlled. Still, anger was better than panic in her opinion.

"Dr. Cameron," she started slowly, making sure to keep her tone as light as possible while at her most formal and diplomatic, "if I didn't think I could cope, I would have already resigned from the BAU. The team can't afford to have anyone who isn't focused on the case and isn't in control of their emotions and thoughts. If a situation arises where I find myself unable to function as part of the team, I will seek a posting elsewhere. Until then, I will remain on the team. I've discussed this subject with them already, and they all believe that is for the best, including my supervising agent."

Cameron nodded, but her green eyes, which her mind insisted on pointing out were just a few shades darker than Jonah's, gave away just a touch of surprise at her response.

"And your team? You're very close, it seems."

"What about them?" she asked guardedly, instinctively protective of the team and their privacy, especially after Strauss. Dr. Cameron must have seen the shift in her expression, because she shook her head.

"I don't mean anything negative by the question, Agent Prentiss. It's just that you interact and work very closely with these people, and I'm curious how you feel about them now, especially since you yourself noted one of the other agents was nearby when you were kidnapped, but since he was otherwise occupied, he didn't come to your aid."

This time Emily let the anger show in her dark eyes, almost, though not quite, glaring at the therapist.

"That's been resolved to my satisfaction, Dr. Cameron," she replied coldly, "as I'm quite sure I already told you. Derek Morgan was not at fault, nor do I really believe he could have done anything anyway. Jonah Samis was too well prepared. As for the rest of the BAU... I would, and do, trust each and every one of them with my life. We are, as you pointed out, very close. Seeing and doing what we do, we have to be, and when we travel we pretty much live together."

"And what about Jennifer Jareau? Where does she stand in all of this?" Cameron asked suddenly. Emily was caught off guard by the abrupt shift in focus, but she recovered rapidly, silently thanking the woman in question for her coaching those first days on how to deal with reporters and the questions they asked to rattle the recipients. Granted, the woman wasn't a reporter, but she may as well have been. Thinking of that made her chuckle, and it was obvious that the woman had indeed asked the question with the intention of catching her off guard and gauging her response.

"Well I could answer that a few different ways. JJ," and here she was very careful to use her friend's nickname, though she wasn't entirely sure why, "is the team's Communications Coordinator and Liaison. That's her official title, anyway. Unofficially, she's our public face, the one who answers the hard questions and clears the way for us to do our job. She's very much a part of the team, if that's what you're asking."

"It is," Cameron replied carefully, apparently unsure what to do since she hadn't been able to trap her the way she'd obviously planned, "but it isn't."

Emily waited as patiently as she could, her mind feeling as if it were at war with itself, and she wasn't sure if she would win out against the fear that was getting stronger minute by minute. Thinking of Jennifer and the team helped, so she focused on that. Finally the shrink seemed to sigh, giving her a long, searching look.

"I'll be blunt, Agent Prentiss. You made Agent Jareau your guardian in the event you were incapacitated, a logical concern given your line of work. Are you satisfied that you made the correct decision, and that she acted in your best interests? She isn't, after all, a family member or, as far as I can see, your partner. She is a friend and a colleague, and in situations where a family member, spouse, or otherwise significant relationship isn't selected to take on that role, there is sometimes some amount of resentment or frustration in how the matter was handled. I wanted to ensure that wasn't the case, or if it was, see to it that it's resolved."

The brunette thought about that seriously, a slow smile reaching her lips as she remembered that her friend was going to be the one staying with her once she returned home. The guilt about that remained, of course, but that didn't mean the idea wasn't appealing.

"I have no problems with how JJ handled the situation," she replied softly, still smiling, "In fact, the choices she's made have all been excellent, as far as I'm concerned. As for your other concern, I don't have a partner, and I'm not especially close to my family. I do disagree that what she and I have isn't a 'significant relationship,' as you phrased it. JJ is my best friend, and I trust her absolutely."

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise," Dr. Cameron answered, smiling a little sheepishly, "I must admit, we have it ingrained in us to be politically correct, and sometimes that wins out over good sense."

Emily nodded, liking the doctor better for the admission, and so was much less annoyed by the next question than she might have been.

"So, you have no objections to her being responsible for your care once you're discharged?"

"None at all, except that I wish it weren't necessary. I know it is, but I would prefer she, and the rest of my team, not have to be concerned with taking care of me. I still can't really get around on my own, though, so I know I have to have help. If I could choose anyone to do it, though, it would be JJ."

Cameron marked something down on her clipboard, looking pleased with the response.

"I know from talking to your doctor that he thinks you should be close to your usual self within two to three weeks." she offered, "provided you're careful, of course. And Agent Jareau is familiar with what's going to be involved?"

Emily chuckled at that, remembering times she'd seen JJ and Dr. Kelso talking earnestly together.

"She might be more aware than I am. She takes her responsibilities very seriously."

Dr. Cameron considered that, then nodded.

"That's good to hear."

She hesitated for a moment, then set her clipboard back in her lap, leaning toward Emily, her eyes searching.

"Agent Prentiss, don't take this the wrong way, but... if Agent Jareau were something besides a good friend, would you say so?"

The brunette frowned, confused by the question. It didn't seem like a trap, but she couldn't imagine why the psychiatrist would ask her that.

"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?"

The younger woman sat back, shaking her head, a faint smile on her face.

"I just had to be sure. Sometimes people are unsure how others will perceive them if they admit to certain things, as I'm sure you're quite aware."

"JJ and I are more than good friends, but I have no problem saying that," the profiler replied, still confused, "we're family. All of us are, although I know I'm closer to her than the others."

After a pause, she tilted her head, her expression becoming decidedly odd.

"Were you implying that JJ and I might be involved in a romantic relationship?"

Stephanie bit her lip, trying not to laugh. The woman she was interviewing was clearly brilliant, driven, and more than a little attractive, but she seemed completely unaware of how she and the young blonde agent interacted, and how it could look to an outsider. The idea that their relationship could be construed as something more had obviously never occurred to her.

"Would that be a problem?" she asked cautiously, still trying to hide her mirth from the profiler's dark eyes. Fortunately she was sufficiently distracted by what she'd said to be focused on her.

"No, of course not," Emily replied, still looking a bit dumbstruck, "in my line of work, real love is so rare and precious that there really isn't room for us to be anything but grateful for it when we see it. I've never had any problems with lesbianism, for all that it really wasn't accepted in many of the places I've been, or in my family. Something about the appearance of impropriety, according to my mother."

Stephanie nodded, looking down at her notes in an effort to hide the strain of not laughing aloud. The poor woman was so blind-sided by the idea, and she couldn't help but wonder if that blindness was the only thing standing between the two agents and a relationship. They certainly interacted with a level of familiarity and comfort she usually only saw in long term partnerships or marriages. It certainly didn't seem as if their team would have any problem with it.

"Uh... anyway, I just have one or two more things before I'm done," she stated, grateful that the agent was still a bit too distracted to notice her verbal stumble. Emily nodded, blinking slowly and shaking her head slightly as if to clear it. The sight threatened to send her over the edge, but she gathered herself again, knowing the last two questions were no laughing matter.

"Have you been having nightmares, sleep disturbances, that sort of thing?"

The brunette looked at her as if assessing whether or not to tell the truth, then shrugged.

"I think I'd be concerned if I weren't. My team and JJ have always been able to get me out of them, so I'm not too worried about that. I know I've woken up in a cold sweat, or been startled awake by some innocuous noise that nearly sent me into a panic, but I'm learning to handle that."

The psychiatrist nodded, checking something off, then looked at her seriously.

"Agent Prentiss, this is my last question, but it's also one of the most important. How well do you remember what Mr. Samis did to you?"

The sound of his name was still enough to frighten her and send her pulse racing, but she tried to control her facial expression, wondering how well she was succeeding but hoping it was well enough.

"I remember everything," she answered shortly, knowing a longer reply would give too much away, "at least everything I was conscious for. I can't forget."

Stephanie nodded, watching her with a concerned expression.

"And how does that make you feel?"

Emily let out a short, harsh laugh she knew would have startled her friends, none of whom except Jennifer had seen her at her more cynical and bitter.

"Absolutely terrified, both for my life and for the state of the world. Bastards like him are the reason me and my team are so necessary, and why, no matter how scared or hurt I am, I need to find a way to deal with it and get back to the BAU. He's given me more reason than ever to do my job, and do it well."

The psychiatrist nodded, accepting that answer and everything that went along with it. Emily watched her, afraid she'd said too much and the woman would decide she wasn't stable enough to go home.

"So?" she asked quietly when she rose, clearly done with her interview. Cameron stepped forward, looking at her with an expression of mixed sympathy and sadness that did nothing to comfort the dark agent.

"You show all the signs of someone who has been through something extremely traumatic, but you also seem to be coping remarkably well. You're in for a rough time, Agent Prentiss, but I think you would recover faster in the comfort and safety of your own home. Hospitals are not the most peaceful of places, and you need that now. My recommendation is going to be that you be discharged as soon as medically possible, but I also suggest you see a therapist."

Emily nodded. JJ had already made sure she made an appointment, so that wasn't an issue. She watched in silence as Dr. Cameron moved to the door, a little surprised when she hesitated and turned back before opening it.

"Agent Prentiss, I don't usually say this kind of thing, since it's really not my specialty, but I do want you to consider something. Think of it as the advice from a colleague of sorts, rather than my professional opinion."

She tilted her head, just waiting. Already she had unconsciously fallen into the habit of silence, of waiting. Cameron saw it, but didn't comment, knowing that in the fragile state she was in, the wrong words could send her into a deep downward spiral, and that wouldn't be beneficial to the beautiful FBI agent. Even if she couldn't say so, she was rooting for her. She just hoped the one thing she was going to say would help.

"Sometimes what we most need, and want, are right in front of our faces. You said real love, true love was rare and precious, and you're right. It is. Sometimes we don't even know what it is when we see it, and sometimes the people who are in it aren't aware they are. I could be wrong, but I think you have something very special, and you don't even know. Just... think about it. I know I'm just a therapist, not a profiler, but if I know anything about people, it's that they don't always see what's right in front of their face."

Emily knew that was true, and as the therapist stepped out and closed the door, she tried to think about what she'd meant, but it was getting harder to think at all. She noticed a strange pounding that seemed to be surrounding her, but only when she tried to locate it did she realize it was her own racing heart. It all seemed very distant compared to the sense of overwhelming, pervasive darkness. She heard the echoes of a scream, of laughter, and her blood seemed to turn to ice. The stark white walls of the room seemed to turn to twisting, warped shapes of shadow and blood, as alive as she was, and as aware.

"I finally found you, little Emily."

She wanted to scream, to cry out at the echo of that voice, but she couldn't, and she wouldn't. She knew it was a memory, knew it wasn't real, but that knowledge wasn't enough for her heart to stop racing or her eyes to see past the illusion they were presented with. She clung to her awareness that it would end, that it wouldn't all happen over again, and that eventually someone would come. Her mind told her who that someone was, but she couldn't seem to remember their name, or why she wanted that one person so badly.

"Maybe I'll find her for you. Would you like that, little Emily? Would you like me to bring your precious Jennifer to you?"

Jennifer. He was going to hurt Jennifer. She couldn't let him take her away. Not her. She wanted to scream, to curse him, anything, but again she reminded herself this wasn't real. It felt real, though. It felt like hell.

"I think I'll bring her here. Let her see everything. It won't be nearly as enjoyable as making Elizabeth suffer, but it would make you scream. It would finally break you, and those lovely eyes of yours would tell me everything. About you. About her. About loss. You will show me the true meaning of despair, Emily Prentiss, and then you will die knowing the person you most wanted to protect died right in front of you."

"I will kill you if you touch her," her own voice responded, all memory gone. All she knew was that JJ, her Jennifer, was being threatened, and she wasn't strong enough to stop it. She could see him now, blurry and undefined, but present against the twisting shadows.

"You lay one finger on Jennifer, touch one strand of her hair, and I will make you suffer," she hissed fiercely, baring her teeth almost ferally, "You will feel more pain than you ever caused the women you tortured, more than all of it combined. You will know the meaning of despair, because you'll be experiencing it for yourself!"

He moved forward, but this time her hands weren't tied, and even weak she could, and did, fight.

"Emily, stop! Calm down!"

She growled lowly, lashing out even harder. To her surprise, a soft hand clasped her arm on the other side, a touch she recognized.

"Emily, look at me. Look at me, sweetheart."

Despite herself she did turn, unable to disobey the command underlying the sweet, gentle voice. Blue eyes were waiting for her, eyes that were calm, steady, and infinitely tender. Those eyes knew her, knew everything.

"I've got you, Emily. You're safe now. You're safe, I promise."

She stared into those eyes, wanting to believe in them, needing to, in fact, but she was so scared. She couldn't be there. She had to be hallucinating. It was a trick. It had to be. Those eyes saw through her, though. They knew.

"It's me, Emily. It's Jennifer. You know me, sweetheart. You know I won't let anyone hurt you. Come on, Em. Try to remember where you are, and who you're with. You're not there any more. He can't hurt you. I won't let him. You're safe."

JJ's face came into focus, solid, strong, and undeniably real. The harsh lights of the room seemed to make her hair glow, giving her a halo of sorts.

"There you go, Emily, that's it. I've got you."

She sighed softly, forgetting to be scared. The fact that moments ago her mind had been telling her she was back in that bomb shelter was irrelevant. She was safe now. Jennifer was wrapping her in a warm embrace, drawing her head to her chest. She could hear her heart beating, slowing a little bit now, but still going faster than usual. She was healthy, though, the soft skin covering firm muscle unbroken and undamaged. Jennifer was safe.

"Thank God..." she heard her friend murmur, a hand lifting to slowly stroke her hair, "I was afraid I was going to lose you to him again. God, Emily, I was scared for you."

"Prentiss, you all right?"

She turned slightly, terrified that JJ would disappear, but she didn't. Those arms were still around her, and she could feel those eyes still on her. Derek Morgan was standing a few steps from her bedside, a bruise developing on one side of his face.

"I'm... I'm okay," she replied hesitantly, then looked again at the bruise, realizing where it must have come from, "Oh... God, Derek, I'm so sorry. Did I..."

He shook his head, a slow smile crossing his face.

"Hey, if you can clock me like that, I'm not too worried. You are one tough lady, Emily Prentiss. You'll beat this in no time. I'd bet on you and JJ every time, in any situation."

She smiled weakly at that. She didn't know about herself, but no matter what happened, she knew she could trust the woman holding on to her so tightly. Thinking back, she had never let her down, never let the team down.

"You're just jealous that she's beaten you up twice now, Derek," JJ teased, grinning up at the dark man with more than a little gratitude in her eyes. She knew Emily needed this, needed acceptance, understanding, and friendship. Right now, though, she needed to be comforted and reassured, and that was something only she seemed to be able to do.

"Hey now," Morgan was objecting, "she didn't beat me up that time."

"Face it, Morgan," JJ told him, laughter in her voice, "you got beat up, and beat, by a girl. She's a better shot than you too, remember?"

He huffed, shaking his head and turning to Garcia, who was giggling at him.

"Not you too, baby girl. Come on, let's give these two ladies some air. I saw a place when we were getting lunch I wanna check out real quick."

Once again the two women were left alone, and once again Emily was ashamed to realize she was relieved. JJ sighed and leaned back, still holding her tightly, but settling her into a more comfortable position.

"What'd the shrink say?" she asked curiously, and the brunette smiled, knowing she asked just as much because it would distract her as because she was curious.

"She thought I was recovering well and I would do better at home than here," she answered readily, then paused, remembering what else she'd said. She would have to think more about that later, she decided, since right now she had no idea what the hell she'd meant by it. She and JJ were friends, sure, but they were also two of only three women on the team, and in a work environment that favored men. That made them, by necessity, even closer than they might have been otherwise.

"Well that's good, right?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "but you know... right now I really just want to be wherever you are."

JJ stared down at her friend, then smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, just as she might a frightened child.

"I know the feeling."

It was Emily's turn to smile, and with that her whole body seemed to come unwound, leaving her relaxed to the point of limpness in JJ's arms. She did want to be home, she decided, but the definition of the word 'home' was flexible.

"Jennifer?"

"Yes?"

She looked up, her eyes gentle under the liaison's curious, tender gaze.

"Thank you for saving my life."

A tear fell from one blue gem, and JJ's smile was decidedly watery.

"Thank you for letting me."

With that the last of the shadows left her, and Emily once again made herself comfortable against her pillows, drawing a deck of cards from the basket of games and supplies Garcia had given her. JJ grinned, shifting so she was sitting cross-legged on Emily's bed, facing her over the tray table. That's where their colleagues found them when they returned, and that's when JJ finally got her delayed game of Gin.

**Date and Time: February 26, 2007 19:07**

**Location: FBI Gym and Training Rooms, Quantico Virginia**

It had all started off as a simple discussion of military combat techniques, JJ remembered, smiling. She and Emily had done some weight training earlier, and then they'd done some light sparring, just to keep their hand-to-hand skills up. It was important for FBI agents to be able to defend themselves, after all, and she had to admit to being impressed by her friend's speed and skill. Emily was so elegant and refined most of the time, though sometimes her rather quirky sense of humor gave her away. She was as elegant in combat as she was in everything else, she'd decided. After their last case, Emily had apparently done some research into the training regime of the Army Rangers, and they'd been talking about that after they'd finished sparring. Morgan had come in at some point, and somehow the discussion had turned into a debate. Somehow the subject had gotten into the training given FBI agents, and whether or not it was enough. Emily, still somehow retaining her usual grace in her sweats and tank top, had claimed it was all about application and discipline, and Morgan had argued that when it came down to it, size and sheer physical force mattered more.

"Come on, Prentiss," he'd said, "if some guy, or woman, has more muscle, reach, and stamina than you do, they'll take you."

"You think you could beat me in a fight, don't you?" the brunette had asked, half teasing, half serious.

"Well... yeah. No offense, Emily, but I'm a lot stronger than you are, and more physically fit. I'd take you down before you got a chance to use any fancy moves you might have picked up."

Dark brown eyes had flared at the challenge apparent in the other agent's tone and body language. And here they were. She sat watching as Morgan stretched and Emily, already warmed up, adjusted her gloves and mouth guard. Noticing her gaze, the brunette strode over to her, and JJ grinned, giving her a quick once over. Their workout earlier had tired Emily a bit, but she looked calm and confident, but unlike Morgan, not cocky.

"Go kick his ass, Em," she whispered, and her friend grinned back, lifting up one gloved fist. The blonde tapped her own fist against it, a fighter's gesture of good luck and faith. She watched as Emily turned her dark gaze on Morgan, and she could see her assessing him, again with that calm confidence that seemed to characterize her most of the time.

"Hey, don't bias the ref," he called, having seen the interaction between the two women. JJ laughed and Emily chuckled, shrugging.

"What, you're so worried about losing that you're already accusing me of cheating? We haven't even started yet!"

Morgan laughed, walking over to meet the other agent in the middle of the mat, both taking a ready stance. Out of the corner of her eye JJ saw Hotch standing in the doorway, attempting to be inconspicuous but obviously curious about how this would turn out.

"You two ready?"

"Bring it on," Morgan replied with an easy grin, already sure of the outcome. Emily just winked at her, getting a smile in return. Morgan hadn't watched them sparring earlier, so he had no idea what he was up against. She did, and while she knew from experience and observation how tough he was, she remembered a stray thought from the first day she'd met the dark-haired agent. She'd bet on Emily Prentiss any day.

"Go!"

The two combatants tapped their gloves, circling each other. Morgan made the first strike, which Emily simply stepped away from, recognizing, as JJ had, that it was simply a feint to test her reflexes. As she watched, the blonde noticed that he became a little unnerved by Emily's refusal to close in on him, so, as she'd expected, he decided to take it for a lack of confidence or skill.

"Come on, Emily. If you never hit your guy how can you expect to beat him?"

Emily was silent, but she was smiling. JJ knew what she was doing, though. She'd fallen for that trick too. When Morgan made his move, her friend was ready. He feinted left, made a quick strike at her side, then lunged, the move very reminiscent of a football tackle. Emily suddenly wasn't there anymore, though. Just as he'd reached the moment where he could no longer change his direction, the brunette had sidestepped left, bringing up one knee. The breath was yanked from his chest as he impacted it, then Emily pressed up and over, using the momentum of his charge to send him flying. The impact was audible as he hit the mat on his stomach, leaving him stunned for just a second before he rolled and got back to his feet, looking at the other agent more warily this time.

"Okay, I get it. You still haven't beat me yet."

And with that he went at the slim, elegant woman, using a mix of martial arts and football techniques. Emily was too fast for him, though. More than once the blonde caught herself holding her breath, afraid that one of his blows really would land, but somehow, with an amazing economy of motion, she was just never where Derek expected her to be. He did get in some hits on her, and finally seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Emily was tired, JJ could tell, and her muscles were slowed from the weight lifting earlier. Morgan noticed this too and grinned, apparently deciding to finish it. He lunged, the force of his body aimed for her abdomen, and the blonde froze, actually afraid for the older agent. Derek was tired too, and a little less in control of himself than she would like. Just when he should have hit her, though, Emily suddenly twisted in an amazing show of agility, catching his forward arm and throwing him over her shoulder, following him down and using his own speed to catch him in the diaphragm with her knee, the other leg pinning his arm at the elbow, effectively immobilizing it. She pinned his free arm with her right, her left forearm pressing down on his neck. Her weight was very evenly distributed, the blonde noted in passing, just enough in all the right places to keep him pinned while still maintaining balance while he struggled weakly. Normally, she knew, he would have been able to use his legs to get out, but any movement increased the pressure on his throat, blocking him from getting any more air while what he had was forced out of his chest.

"Okay! I give up!" he wheezed, and Prentiss flashed a grin and rose smoothly, her previous exhaustion gone. She gave him a hand up, nimbly blocking the leg he swung out, hoping to trip her up. Once again Morgan was looking up at her from the mat, and she shook her head, laughing.

"Poor loser, Morgan?"

With that she walked over to JJ, winking. The press liaison laughed, helping her pull her gloves off, not because she needed the help, but because it gave her a chance to check her friend over for any injuries. She winced at a bruise that was forming on one shoulder, partially hidden under the tank top, but the dark-haired agent shook her head, keeping her from commenting as their boss approached, helping Derek to his feet.

"That was cheap," the unit chief pointed out. Morgan shook his head and sighed.

"You made your point, Prentiss," he admitted, "I shouldn't underestimate anyone. You never know what hidden talents they may have."

"Well, I should point out that you're probably not used to fighting a profiler," Emily replied humbly, although the woman at her side could see the slight hesitance at giving herself that title. Oblivious to it, the former quarterback laughed, agreeing with her.

"So, are you ready to go, now that you've proven you can beat up our big tough star here?" JJ asked. Her friend nodded.

"Just let me go get my gun," she answered, already starting off in that direction.

"Your gun?" Derek asked curiously, his interest once again piqued. After a quick glance at JJ, Emily shrugged.

"Target practice. You interested?"

For just a second he looked surprised, which irritated both women. They were FBI agents too. They had needed to prove their skills with a firearm just like he had. Hotch must have seen the look that passed between them, because he turned to the other man with a slightly more severe expression.

"You should go, Morgan. You could use the practice."

The dark agent looked offended, but Hotch was already leaving, probably wanting to get home.

"Yeah, I'll come with you," Derek declared after a pause, "but don't you start thinking I'm losing my touch. You caught me off guard, Prentiss. It won't happen again."

"That was the point, Morgan," the older woman pointed out calmly, "if you can make your opponent overconfident, you can beat him, even if he's better than you. You could probably rip me apart, but I guarantee you'd get hurt in the process, and so would anyone else who tried to hurt me or anyone I was protecting. It's not about winning. It's about caring enough about something to risk getting hurt or dying to keep it safe."

She turned away, heading to the women's locker room with JJ a step behind her, leaving the other agent standing on the mat staring after her. When they reached the locker room the brunette sat down on the bench, leaning against the cold metal behind her. The liaison watched her in silence for a moment, then moved forward, gently unwrapping her hands. Dark eyes watched her, full of suppressed emotions. She put the wraps in Emily's bag, which she took from her friend's locker, then sat down at her side, just waiting.

"Do you think he'll be upset?" the brunette asked finally.

"No," JJ replied readily, having expected the question, "I think you gave him some things to think about. And he'll be better for it. Derek can be kind of overconfident about his skills sometimes, but he's a good agent, and a good profiler. And he does like you. You two bonded over the whole Vonnegut thing. He may even be considering asking you out."

Emily snorted at that, lifting her head from the locker to look more directly at her.

"Not likely, and if he does, I'm just going to have to bruise his ego all over again."

"You'd turn him down?" she asked curiously, and the brunette smiled a little sadly, her brown eyes full of shadows.

"Yeah. Morgan is a good guy and all, but you saw him at the club. He's the kind of guy who can't feel too tied down by a woman. If he is, he'll bolt. He might change for the right person, but I know I'm not it."

"Why not?"

Emily hesitated slightly, then shrugged, giving her a slightly brighter smile this time.

"Well, for one, I know I couldn't change him, nor do I have any desire to. For another, he really isn't my type. He's good looking and all, but he just doesn't do it for me. Besides, I'm just not looking for a guy these days. I love my job, and almost any man would ask more of me than I could give him. Even someone like Morgan, who understands what we do, would need too much time and energy that I just don't have."

"So if an opportunity came up, you wouldn't take it?"

Emily shrugged, finally getting up and slipping out of her tank top, comfortable enough with JJ to change in front of her.

"I don't know. I guess, like Morgan, I would need the right person to make it worth it. I know my mother would prefer I 'settle down,' but..."

JJ nodded, understanding that all too well.

"My parents want that too," she offered, getting up to change herself, "and it's hard to go home to that all the time. They just don't understand why I'm not married and have kids by now."

The brunette nodded, wiping herself off with a damp towel. She hadn't worked up too much of a sweat, she decided, although she'd need a shower once she got home. She really didn't like showering here for some reason. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with JJ, she decided. It had much more to do with how easy it would be for just anyone to walk in. As she stared to pull on a clean shirt, she winced, painfully reminded of her various bruises. Her companion saw the expression and looked over, frowning in concern at the marks standing out vividly against her pale skin.

"Emily..."

Prentiss sighed, shaking her head wearily.

"I should have ducked faster."

JJ looked up from her examination, then chuckled when she realized her friend was teasing, but it still bothered her more than she could really account for to see the other agent in pain.

"You're going to be very sore soon," she remarked, noticing that already Emily looked uncomfortable when she moved, "Maybe we should forget about the range for tonight."

She felt the dark eyes on her without needing to look up, and she blushed a little, realizing how she was starting to sound lately. She was very protective of everyone on the team, but she was especially so with Garcia and Emily. Maybe even more so with the brunette, she realized, since she regularly went out into the field and put herself in harm's way. Garcia, at least, was usually safely in her office. Ever since Reid's kidnapping, she'd felt like they were all a bit more vulnerable, and a part of her was afraid that if something happened to Emily the team wouldn't work nearly as hard to get her back. Maybe not hard enough.

"I'm sorry," she murmured softly, "I just... don't like seeing you hurt."

"Don't apologize," Emily replied softly, her tone soft and warm, "It's always nice to have someone who cares. And as it happens, the feeling is mutual."

The blonde smiled, giving the bruises a last look before letting her friend put her shirt on.

"Well, how about we go to the range, you prove Morgan wrong yet again, we get some take out, then I drive you home and give you a massage so you won't be one massive ache tomorrow?"

"Now that sounds like a plan," the brunette replied, sounding considerably cheerier. JJ smiled, glad the brunette had gone along with her idea. They had already planned on having a late dinner together, and since they had carpooled there had been so vague idea of having a slumber party of sorts to give them both a chance to unwind from the last couple of cases. They had even invited Garcia, but she apparently had some tech related thing to go to. If she were honest with herself, she was almost grateful. She and Emily hadn't been able to spend a lot of time together in the last couple of weeks, and she knew the older agent was feeling a little isolated, especially after the way Reid had been treating her. She loved Garcia and knew the tech goddess was coming to accept Emily quickly enough, but even the sociable, over-the-top Penelope was a little quieter around the dark-eyed agent, and she'd seen the way it wore on Emily to always feel like she had to be charming and friendly. It was better that it was just the two of them.

"You ready to go show up Morgan?" Emily asked with a soft smile, lightly squeezing her arm as she stepped past her. The liaison smiled in return when she glanced back, hefting her bag. The young man was waiting for them at the range, fiddling with his gun. Both Emily and JJ used their own guns as well, rather than one provided by the agent supervising the range. He readily agreed with the choice, since those where the side arms they'd be using while in the field. The blonde checked her clip, starting to feel a bit nervous. Morgan was a great shot, and he knew it. Emily was also very skilled with her weapon. She spent the least amount of time in the field, and the least amount of time actively using her gun.

"Hey JJ?"

She turned, finding her dark friend standing just behind her, looking both typically elegant and especially dangerous with her gun held comfortably at her side. Emily gave her a look so confident and full of faith that she warmed, momentarily forgetting her nerves. It was hard to doubt herself when someone was looking at her like that. When Emily looked at her that way, she corrected herself. That kind of confidence was more than a little inspiring, she decided, especially from one so skilled and self-assured.

"Go show him who's really the best."

With her friend's words ringing in her ears, she stepped into the cubicle waiting for her, putting on her headphones and goggles, waiting for the signal to start. She knew Morgan was to her left, and Emily was to her right, but as the targets came up, her focus narrowed to the barely visible lines and circles on them.

"Begin!"

She fired, all thoughts or worries gone from her mind. When her clip ran out and the call came to come see their results, she was startled, having forgotten that they were just at the range and there was a beginning and an end. She hesitantly stepped out, her hands shaking so badly she couldn't put the weapon back in its holster. She didn't know why this always happened, but whenever she practiced the end always made her heart race and her hands tremble violently.

"JJ?"

Her friend's soft voice made her jump, but then familiar hands had slipped her gun out of her grasp and was replacing the magazine. Emily slid the weapon into its place, gently grasping her hands for a moment before turning away to say something she didn't quite hear to Morgan. Distracting him, she realized, as she got herself together. She felt a surge of grateful affection for her friend and sighed, forcing herself to relax. It was the break in her focus that threw her off so badly and left her like this, she decided, and the residual force from her gun.

"Your results, agents."

She took the sheets automatically, grinning at Morgan's proud remark about his skills.

"Beat that!" he laughed, looking quite sure the dark woman couldn't. She smiled calmly and shrugged, handing over her results. Derek's eyes widened, and JJ took the sheet out of his hands, comparing it to the one he still held. Emily's speed had been lower than the other agents, but her accuracy was markedly higher. Speed was important in a crisis, she knew, but accuracy could more than negate that.

"JJ, let's see yours," the brunette called, and the blonde handed over the paper without looking at it. Emily's smile widened suddenly, and with a laugh she handed the paper she held over to the waiting man.

"Beat that," she declared proudly, and Derek sighed, then laughed good naturedly.

"I don't think I can," he answered, shaking his head, "JJ kicked both our asses."

The blonde frowned, actually looking at the scores this time. To her amazement, and Emily's apparent unsurprised, she had rated significantly higher on accuracy, speed, and overall skill. The dark agent laughed and clapped her on the shoulder, pausing when he caught sight of his watch.

"Sorry ladies, but I gotta run. I've got a date to get to."

With a broad grin at both of them and a wink, he was gone. Emily lightly clasped her arm, leading her out to the car and away from the entirely too curious gaze of the supervising agent. When they got outside the brisk wind drew her out of her stunned state, and she looked up into her friend's dark eyes, looking for an explanation. Emily laughed, the sound low and lilting in the crisp, cold air.

"You're incredible, you know that?" she asked, her hand falling naturally to the small of her back as she led the blonde to the waiting car.

"What are you talking about?" JJ asked, finally recovering from her startlement and wonder. The other agent laughed again, drawing her to the passenger's door and ushering her in. She took her place on the other side and started the car before turning her attention back to her companion, still smiling.

"JJ, you do know that Morgan was all set to brag and show off when his scores turned out to be the best, right?"

She nodded absently, wondering how that related. As she drove out of the parking lot, the dark agent continued to smile, the expression becoming more affectionate when she glanced over at her friend.

"You would have had plenty of bragging rights, you know," Emily went on finally, giving her another warm look, "You did so much better than he did, and all you did was stare. I know why, though. I know what it feels like to be yanked out of the kind of focus you have. On the other hand, I also know it never occurred to you to put Morgan in his place for that, of all things. You never believe me when I tell you're the better shot."

JJ looked over at her friend, understanding the joke now, but when Emily's expression suddenly darkened, she frowned. After a few minutes of silence she carefully put a hand over her friend's where it rested on the wheel, and the brunette looked over at her, still with that sad look on her face.

"Emily, what's wrong?" she asked softly, startled by the shift in the brunette's demeanor. Emily smiled wanly, her formerly bright eyes dull.

"I wish... I wish you didn't have to be so good at it, JJ. I know you're as much an agent as any of us, and there's no denying that, but..."

"Emily..."

"I don't have a lot of friends, JJ," the dark woman finally blurted, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, a blush coloring her pale skin, "I never have. Between being my parents' daughter, being the Ambassador's child, being an FBI agent, and being myself, people aren't... aren't really comfortable getting close to me. And I don't exactly trust people easily."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"I don't have enough friends to lose any, JJ," she finished quietly, still staring fixedly at the road, "And every time we go into the field, all of you risk your lives. I know my parents are still alive. I know I have cousins and other relatives but this team, the BAU... you're all the family I have. All the family that counts to me. I love my parents, but they aren't family."

Again Emily shook her head, looking distinctly frustrated.

"What's really bothering you," JJ asked, gently squeezing the hand she still held, "Why are you so upset?"

The brunette stopped the car, and it took a moment for JJ to realize they were outside her friend's apartment. Emily sighed, looking at the hand covering hers for a long moment before she finally turned to meet her companion's gaze.

"I don't want to lose you, JJ. Any time you have to use that gun, it's because someone wants to hurt you or someone near you. You're... you're the best friend I have. God... am I making any sense at all?"

JJ opened her door and strode around the car to the driver's side, opening the door there and kneeling at her startled friend's side. She took hold of the hand nearest her and looked up into the dark brown eyes, eyes that appeared black in the darkness.

"If I didn't know how intelligent you were, I'd call you an idiot here and now. Since I do know, I'm going to tell you how you're being an idiot," she started, her tone light but her expression serious, "Garcia is pretty much my best friend. You know that. What you don't seem to have realized is that you're one of my best friends too. Every time you go out into the field, I sit, stand, or pace around wherever I've been left, absolutely terrified some psycho is going to take away my family. It used to be just the boys I really had to worry about, but now there's you, and as much as I hate to admit it, it would hurt me so much more if you were the one who was taken. I love Reid. He's like my frighteningly brilliant little brother, and Derek is like our jock big brother watching out for us. Hotch is this ever-present father figure, and Gideon... he's like the uncle no one really knows much about but who always seems to be around. Garcia is my sister, the one I share almost everything with, the one who teases and torments me but ultimately has my back."

Emily laughed softly at the way she described their teammates, but she sobered quickly.

"And where do I stand in all of that?"

The blonde sighed, refusing to look away from that shadowed gaze.

"You don't fit into a neat label or compartment," she replied, seeing that her companion had easily caught the reference, "but you're most definitely family. I don't want to ever find out what it would feel like if something happened to you. So yes, Emily, you were making perfect sense."

The dark woman smiled sweetly, sliding out of the car and pulling JJ up with her, just to wrap her in a warm hug. Admittedly she was more than usually grateful, since it was a very cold night and she hadn't put her overcoat on when she'd gotten out of the car. As if sensing her thoughts, the brunette pulled her closer with one arm, the other pulling off the thick coat she wore and wrapping it around the smaller woman. When JJ might have objected, she shushed her, giving her another firm squeeze before stepping back, hefting both their duffle bags and leading the way up to her condo, refusing to hear even a whisper of argument until they were already inside.

"Emily, you didn't have to carry my bag up here."

The older agent laughed, putting the bag down next to her own at the base of the stairs. She waited, and JJ, true to form, got distracted by the chance to look around a place none of their colleagues had been before. It wasn't exactly what she'd expected the Ambassador's daughter to be living in, but it was very much what she would have expected from Emily. The colors were warm without being too bright, subtle and elegant without giving a visitor the impression of being unworthy. The furniture was much the same, muted woods and leathers that were understated but well matched to both the rest of the decor and the woman who lived here. The kitchen, slightly offset from the rest of the condo, was big enough that two may have been able to cook there together, but no more. Not that it looked like anyone else lived there, which fit with what she knew of Emily, and what she had said about herself.

"It's just you here?" she asked, more for the sake of surety than because she really doubted it. The brunette nodded, looking around absently before returning her attention to her friend.

"I've never been good at living in close quarters with other people. Habit, I suppose."

The dark woman shrugged as if she were undisturbed by that fact, but the blonde knew her better. She also knew that the fact Emily had invited her here said a lot for how much she trusted her, and she wasn't going to question it.

"So, I was thinking we should amend our plan a little," Emily started, outwardly oblivious to her thoughts, "I could call for take out to be delivered here, and we could-"

"That sounds great," she interrupted, grinning to take the sting out of it, "so, you order whatever you think would be good, then you're going to go lay down on that astonishingly comfortable-looking couch and I'm going to give you that massage I promised."

It was her turn to interrupt when her friend might have objected, and at the look she gave her, Emily held up her hands, surrendering with a gentle laugh. She called her favorite Asian take out and ordered some dishes she thought JJ might like, knowing they'd arrive with the food as soon as possible. She kept the fair agent entertained with stories of growing up in the Ambassador's household, and with how different it was to live here. When the food arrived JJ took over telling the stories, describing in such vivid detail life in East Allegheny that she caused Emily to nearly fall over laughing more than once, as was her intention.

"That was wonderful," she decreed once she'd been stuffed to the brim. Her friend smiled affectionately, prepared to suggest they watch a movie or some such, but before she could those blue eyes were locked on her. JJ knew exactly what she was up to, and in one imperious look she completely negated that idea. Emily almost said something to argue with her, but once again she was cut off with a single look. She smiled and turned over from where she'd been reclining on the couch so she was on her stomach, taking her shirt off in the process. JJ grinned, pleased to have gotten her way with the proud, stubborn woman, and set to work unknotting the surprisingly thick muscles in her friends arms, shoulders, and back. She and Garcia had done this before, although Garcia insisted she'd learned the technique from Morgan, but it was different with Emily. The older woman was startlingly pliant under her hands, turning into putty in her grasp. It was amazing how Emily transformed, and she started to wonder something that never would have occurred to her before.

"Emily, has anyone ever given you a massage?"

"Huh... no... little higher..."

She grinned, shifting her hands a little. In that case, she decided, she would see to it that this was the best possible massage she could give. By the time she'd finished, Emily Prentiss, regal daughter of powerful parents, fearless and brilliant FBI profiler, was practically purring, so relaxed she may as well have been boneless. JJ was, to say the least, quite proud of herself.

"You're magic," the dark woman murmured in a slow, contented drawl. The blonde chuckled, deciding she didn't have the heart to make her companion move, even though she really should get her to bed. She started to get up to get a blanket instead, but Emily grumbled incoherently and tossed an arm around her, pulling her against her bruised body. Already all but unconscious, the other agent could tell, but she was touched that Emily wanted her to stay close.

"I should get a blanket or something," she started to say, but the brunette hushed in, drawing her closer. To her surprise, she found that she was plenty warm enough right where she was. Her friend nuzzled her face into her hair, and she laughed softly.

"That tickles!" she scolded, but she didn't really mind. It wasn't as if Garcia hadn't ever treated her like a living stuffed animal in her sleep, after all. It was just that it was so much more unexpected from Emily.

"You're really just a soft touch, aren't you?" she asked affectionately, "You can beat up the guys and the UnSubs and never flinch, but give you a massage and you turn into a cuddly teddy bear."

"Uh-huh..." Emily mumbled, "Whatever you say. Now shut up and sleep."

She laughed, deciding that was a good idea. She managed to snag her overcoat from where her friend had placed it over the couch when they'd come in and pulled it over them, resting her head on the older agent's bare arm.

"You know I'm never going to let you live this down, right?"

The dark-haired woman grumbled again, tightening the hold she had around her waist.

"Agent Jareau, do I have to sedate you?"

With a laugh she settled down again, willing herself to relax and sleep. Sleep she did regularly enough, but it was rare that she relaxed completely. In Emily's arms, though, any fears or anxieties faded into the background, leaving her almost as limp as her companion.

"You can say what you want," she whispered, softly enough that it wouldn't disturb the sleeping woman, "but you're the one who's magic, Emily Prentiss."


	5. Denial

**_Denial_ : **_(In psychology)_ Failure to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to

admit it into consciousness. Used as a defense mechanism.

**Date and Time: February 19, 2008, 13:22**

**Location: BAU Jet, In the Air over Maryland**

Hotch looked up from the file he was reviewing, discretely enough that the objects of his curiosity were unaware, but not so much that the man across from him didn't notice. He just chuckled and went back to his own file, knowing exactly why he was doing it. Emily Prentiss was sprawled on one of the jet's couches, her head comfortably cushioned in Jennifer Jareau's lap. She still wore a bandage around her head from both the brutal gash across her temple and the place they'd needed to drill to keep fluid buildup from killing her. It had amused him how meticulous they'd been about cutting away as little hair as possible, but in a way he was glad. It allowed his agent to retain some sense of normalcy, which he knew she desperately needed. Right now JJ was tenderly stroking said hair, her blue eyes distant and thoughtful. He wondered what she was thinking about, but doubted he didn't already know.

"Do you think they'll ever be able to forget?" Dave asked him suddenly, and he turned, looking at the man who had been his mentor, and was now his subordinate. Rossi had been uncompromising with Strauss and Ambassador Prentiss, and for that he was grateful, although the burden of command had, of course, fallen on his own shoulders.

"Forget? I don't know," he replied softly, considering the question, "I doubt it. Could you?"

The Italian shook his head, setting down the file he held.

"Do you think they'll make it?"

This time he didn't have to think.

"If anyone can survive this, it's them. You know as well as I do how much it takes just to get this far. And it isn't as if either of them are denying it, either. Both of them have made appointments with therapists, and I know they've talked about it. They're surviving, Dave. Right now that's all we can ask of them."

"And you still think they don't know?"

Now he chuckled, glancing back at the two women, then at Morgan and Reid, who were playing cards behind them. Garcia sat across from them, looking a great deal like a mother bird standing guard over her fledglings.

"You know they don't. If they did, we would know. As far as I can tell, it just never occurred to them. It's an innocence you don't see a lot in our line of work. I think we should let them find out when they will. Not that it will change much. For all practical purposes, they've already made the big steps. Now they just have to make the smaller ones."

Rossi raised an eyebrow.

"You think that is a small step?" he asked pointedly, and Aaron smiled.

"I suppose not. For them, though, after everything they've been through, it does seem that way, at least from the outside. They may not agree, but I'm hoping they won't let it get between them. Hard to believe anything could, but that..."

The older agent nodded, risking a glance at the two women again. His eyes were sad when he watched them interact, Hotch had noticed, as if for the first time he was really seeing everything he had given up to get where he was. He understood that. Losing Haley had been a blow, because he truly loved his wife, and he adored Jack. And yet, even for them, he couldn't stop being a profiler. Maybe if Haley had been one too, but...

"Jennifer... No!"

The sudden exclamation startled everyone, and they all turned, seeing the expression of absolute terror on Emily's face that was becoming almost familiar. Already, though, JJ was soothing her back to sleep, stroking her hair and speaking to her in a soft whisper. Almost as quickly as the nightmare had hit, the injured woman was relaxing back into her friend's lap, accepting whatever reassurance she'd been given.

"Do you think that's an improvement?" Rossi asked him quietly once they were sure Emily was really asleep. Hotch considered, well aware he was talking about the fact that sometimes the brunette actually spoke out in her dreams now. The trouble was that meant she was dreaming about the worst parts of the torture, when Samis had threatened to track down and kill JJ. She had been dying when they found her, and almost beyond recovery. The last thing Jonah Samis had said to her had been a promise that she would die knowing she had caused her best friend to suffer, and that was what she dreamed of most often now.

"I don't know," he replied finally, "but it could be. If she can get past that part..."

Dave nodded. If she could get past her own near death, as well as the fear for JJ's life, she might be well on her way to recovery. The older man sighed and went back to his file, and Hotch did the same for a while, until something occurred to him and he gestured Garcia over. The woman seemed reluctant to abandon her 'post,' but she came.

"You and Morgan finished everything, right?" he asked softly, realizing that he hadn't had a chance to confirm the information before they'd taken off. She grinned and nodded, looking quite pleased with herself. By all accounts, she certainly had the right to. When he'd talked to Morgan on the phone, he'd mentioned that everyone involved was so thoroughly terrified of Garcia that they'd finished the job to the very best of their abilities and in the smallest time possible. They'd also given the lowest price they probably ever had, just to keep the analyst from coming down on them for that.

"It's all set up, sir."

He nodded, giving her a small smile. She smiled back before going back to her seat, alternating her attention between Morgan and Reid's game, and her two friends on the couch. He watched her watch them for a moment, then sighed, setting his file aside and rising, heading for the pilot's cabin. The man assured him they'd be setting down soon, but there was a weather system just ahead and it would cause some turbulence. As he went back to his seat, he paused to warn the two younger men, then Garcia. Moving carefully, he kneeled next to JJ, who acknowledged his presence without stopping the gentle caress of the older woman's hair.

"The captain mentioned we were going to be hitting some weather in a few minutes, but we'll be on the ground in less than half an hour."

The blonde nodded her understanding, so he rose and silently walked back to his place across from Rossi, who was watching them again.

"It's amazing what the human mind is capable of denying," he murmured softly, shaking his head. Hotch smiled a bit at that. His former mentor was certainly right, since they saw it often enough in their line of work, but this time he wasn't talking about psychotic tendencies or a need to kill. Before he could respond, though, the jet hit the first rough patch, and he instinctively braced himself, looking over to see how JJ and Emily were faring. The blonde had an arm wrapped tightly around her companion, leaning protectively over her and whispering something into her ear.

"JJ?" he called softly, and she looked up, shaking her head. Her blue eyes were intense, even from a distance, and he sighed inwardly, worrying about his agents. He was the only one who knew how much Prentiss had sacrificed for this team, the only one who knew why she'd nearly resigned back in October. He doubted even JJ had heard the full story. Emily was too modest to say, and he'd never found the right time. There was no doubt in his mind that losing Prentiss would devastate the team far more effectively than losing Gideon. It wasn't her profiling skills that would do it, although many of their recent cases had been cracked by contributions from the dark woman. It was the silent support she gave everyone else, her way of joking with Morgan, keeping him in his place, the way she made Reid think in ways he wouldn't on his own, the way she understood Garcia... and then there was JJ. The blonde was well loved by her teammates, but it was Emily who was always ready with a look, a light touch, or the right words to comfort her when things went bad.

"You won't lose them, Hotch," David murmured suddenly, breaking into his thoughts, "You were the one who told me they'd make it. Now you have to believe in them too."

He glanced over at his former mentor, smiling to himself. He was glad no one else on the team knew him so well. He could accept that sort of thing from the older agent, but he didn't think he could tolerate it from the other members of his team.

"I do believe in them," he replied, his voice equally soft, "especially them. I have to. If I didn't, we never would have gotten Samis, or found her and the other woman alive."

Rossi nodded, fixing him with his intense stare. He chuckled, knowing what the other man wanted from him.

"They're my family, Dave. I have to do whatever I can to protect them."

"And you will."

That seemed to settle the issue for him, and the Italian turned back to the file, apparently oblivious to the rocking of the plane. Hotch knew him well enough to know it made him uncomfortable though. Rossi still wasn't used to air travel.

"Hotch!"

He was in motion as soon as he heard his name, helping the blonde secure her friend while waving the others back to their seats. Emily was half-awake and disoriented, but she wasn't quite strong enough to hold herself on the couch, or awake enough to know she needed to. He was careful not to do anything threatening, hoping JJ's hold and voice would keep her from panicking. It was, it seemed. When they were through the weather system the brunette sat up slowly, looking around. Her eyes were reasonably clear, and while her expression was guarded, she seemed to know when and where she was.

"Hotch, what happened?" she asked, reassuring him that she was, in fact, in the present.

"We just hit some weather," he assured her, "but the flight's almost over. We're almost home."

She nodded, trying to sit up straight and take everything in, but it was obviously difficult for her. He knew she was suffering the lingering effects of a nasty concussion, among many other things, and moving quickly was still extremely painful for her.

"Take it easy. We'll be down in about ten minutes. I'll be driving, so you can rest in the car," he said soothingly, patting her arm gently before turning his attention to JJ, "Did Dr. Kelso give her a script?"

She nodded, gesturing to the bag at the other end of the couch. He snagged it, handing it over and getting a bottle of water from the bar.

"Em, here," JJ was saying when he returned, taking the bottle with a grateful look in his direction. The brunette frowned at the pills, glancing between her supervisor and her friend.

"I don't want to be knocked out..."

The press liaison smiled and shook her head.

"I know. It's just naproxen for the headache. Dr. Kelso gave you something stronger, but said you could take it at your own discretion."

That reassured the dark agent, and she took the two blue pills, leaning back against the couch. She still looked exhausted, with deep shadows around her eyes and a wariness about her that never quite faded. She didn't look gaunt and nearly transparent as she had when they found her, though, and he found that eased his mind. The rest he knew he'd need to trust JJ to handle. Not that she'd be left to do it all herself, of course, but most of the burden would fall to her.

"Thanks, JJ. Thank you, Hotch."

The blonde smiled warmly, playing with the other woman's dark hair. It seemed to be unconscious, he noticed, as was the way Emily leaned into the touch, her expression relaxing and the tension that almost radiated off her easing. At an announcement from the pilot he saw to it his team was buckled in, then returned to his seat. The landing was smooth, as always, but disembarking was a little difficult. While Emily could walk on her own now, she was still unsteady and weak, and needed to move slow. Stairs were an issue, but the brunette couldn't be persuaded to allow herself to be carried. Part of it was stubborn pride, but another was that it was entirely too reminiscent of being captured by Samis. They compromised, with Derek, Reid, and Rossi carrying the bags while Hotch and JJ supported her. At the bottom she thanked them, trying to walk the rest of the way alone.

"Emily!" JJ suddenly exclaimed, catching her friend as she started to fall barely a third of the way across the tarmac. With a visible sigh the brunette slung an arm across her friend's shoulders, letting her support her weight. Hotch knew better by now than to offer a wheelchair or an arm of his own, but it didn't stop him from wanting to. When they finally reached the parking lot he breathed an inward sigh of relief, glad that this part of the journey was almost over. He knew from experience that being in one's own home could make a huge difference when one was afraid.

"How much further?" Emily asked quietly, sounding more than tired. She sounded subdued, he decided. She wanted to be home as badly as they wanted her to be. JJ helped her slide into the car, sitting next to her and holding on to her hand. He kept an eye on them in the rearview mirror, driving as fast as he dared. At the brunette's building he parked and remembered with more than a little gratitude that there was an elevator here. The ride up was short, and he noticed that Emily didn't seem overly uncomfortable with the confined space, but then Samis' bomb shelter had been fairly large. That was one less thing to be concerned about, anyway.

"Here we are," he declared when they reached the appropriate floor, leading them down the hall with their bags. He took the key JJ held out to him, giving him a worried look that mirrored his own feelings. Emily wasn't entirely present right now, not so much out of fear as from exhaustion, but that wasn't really any better in the long run. They needed to get her off her feet. He opened the door, holding it so the two women could follow, and strode the the base of the stairs, setting the two bags down at the base of the stairs where he had known Emily usually put hers.

"I'll get out of your way shortly, but I wanted to show you something first."

He persuaded JJ to let him support Emily, and told her to stand at the base of the stairs.

"There's a handle there," he pointed it out, waiting for JJ to take it and showed her how it pulled out, "now, lean on that and hold on."

He pulled a small remote out of his jacket pocket and pressed a button. The blonde started when the surface she was standing on rose, then started to slide upward, skimming just an inch or two above the stairs themselves. He reversed the direction when it reached the top, telling JJ how she could move the handle to a better position. Once she'd returned to the bottom, she guided the clearly amused brunette to the couch, turning back to grin at Hotch.

"That was pretty cool," she declared with a laugh. He smiled faintly, agreeing with the sentiment.

"Morgan and Garcia supervised the installation. The tracks were colored to blend into the wall, and more than strong enough to support both of them, so you two should be fine. Garcia also bought some groceries, so you won't have to worry about food if you don't want to go out."

"Thank you so much," the dark agent stated softly, her eyes conveying what she didn't seem to have the words for, "and tell them thank you, too. I can't believe you guys went to so much trouble."

"It's no trouble," he replied, patting her shoulder and moving toward the door, knowing his welcome was pretty much up here, "You two take care, and if you need anything, anything at all, give me a call. If there's any way I can help, I will."

"Hotch, thank you," Emily repeated, looking at him intensely. He nodded, returning the look in silence for a long moment before giving them both a short, sad smile and stepping out. He wanted to stay, to make sure they got settled, but knew that was unnecessary. Besides, he thought to himself with a grin, they deserved some time alone. They had almost constantly been surrounded by doctors, nurses, and the team, and while that was good in some ways, he'd noticed they often seemed more relaxed when they'd had some time to themselves.

"Have a good afternoon," he called, gently closing the door behind him. Emily sighed inwardly, closing her eyes and leaning into the cool comfort of her own couch. She could feel JJ shifting near her and turned to the woman, smiling gently.

"I'm okay," she assured her gently, not needing to open her eyes to know her friend was worrying about her, "just tired. Thank you for coming home with me."

"No thanks needed," Jennifer answered softly, her voice low and warm. After a moment Emily felt a calloused hand running through her hair, then moving to cup her face. She leaned into the touch, feeling her muscles loosening at her awareness of her friend's nearness. For what seemed like the hundredth time in a day and a half she thought about what Dr. Cameron had said, and what she'd implied. Looking at it objectively she could see how the way she and JJ interacted could be interpreted as something more than friendship. It was also true that no one made her feel as warm, as special, and, if she were honest with herself, more loved. She wasn't naive enough to say it was the love of a sister she felt, either.

"Em?"

The sound of her own name made her smile, and she opened her eyes, finding herself looking into worried blue depths. She wondered what her expression had given away to her perceptive friend, but she wasn't too worried about it.

"Do you remember the first time you and I were on this couch together?" she asked softly, and JJ laughed.

"Yeah," the blonde replied, grinning fondly at the memory, "I went to all the trouble to give you a massage, and you thanked me by telling me to shut up."

Emily chuckled, pulling her companion down onto her lap. JJ was startled, but still she leaned into her when she wrapped her arms around her, resting her head on her shoulder. She sighed, her demons becoming irrelevant in comparison to the feeling that came with having this woman in her arms. She had never really noticed before, never thought about the subtle relaxation of her guard or how much easier it was to breathe when she held her friend.

"Is it my fault you give such a good massage, Jennifer?" she asked teasingly, hearing for the first time how her voice changed when she talked to JJ, how it warmed and softened as it never did when she talked to anyone else. If someone who didn't know them were to walk in right now and see them together, they would probably lay down good money that they were together. And she didn't think she'd particularly mind if they said so. The thing she needed to figure out was whether or not she felt anything romantic or sexual toward the other woman. If Dr. Cameron hadn't suggested it, she doubted it would have occurred to her to wonder about it.

"No, I suppose not," the younger agent replied, looking very pleased with herself, "I guess I can't blame you for being overwhelmed by my skills."

Emily laughed, tightening her grip and letting her head rest against the blonde's. She could feel JJ relaxing against her and she could see how tired she was. At this range she could easily trace the dark shadows around her eyes and the heavy lines marring her pale face.

"You should rest, Jennifer," she chided gently, running her fingers through strands of golden hair. JJ mumbled something about being fine, but her face was buried in her neck and she couldn't quite make it out. She knew the other agent had been staying awake much longer hours than she had, always on alert for nightmares or flashbacks. They were safe here, though, and even her unpredictable mind seemed to be able to concede that point. She wasn't stupid enough to think that she was fine now, but she knew she could give her friend some time to sleep.

"It's okay," she whispered soothingly, "take a nap, Jennifer. I've got you."

"I'm supposed to be looking after you," the younger woman objected, lifting her head from its resting spot and trying to look awake and alert, "not the other way around."

"Well right now I don't need looking after," she retorted, keeping her tone light, "and you need sleep."

JJ sighed, looking somewhat resigned at what she was sure was a very stubborn expression on her face and moved to get up, but she wouldn't let her. She was mentally stable for the moment, but she didn't think she was physically strong enough to move very far, or emotionally strong enough to tolerate being alone, even if Jennifer was just in the next room or upstairs. She felt horribly selfish, but she knew it would make JJ feel horrible if she woke up to find her screaming or worse.

"I'm not going anywhere," her friend assured her, reading her expression, "Just don't want to crush you."

"I don't think you could."

Emily saw the slow smile and returned it, shifting a little so she could lay back, wrapping herself around her companion much the way she had the first time JJ had been here. Her friend seemed to recognize the similarities too, because she grinned, pressing herself further into the older woman's embrace.

"Promise you'll wake me up if anything happens?"

She agreed to the condition, waiting for the lovely liaison to fall asleep before reaching up, tenderly playing with her hair and going back to her earlier train of thought. Did she have feelings that would be described by her colleagues as 'romantic'? It was an awkward question when she phrased it that way, but it was still something she needed to know for herself. It was strange, since she'd never thought of JJ in those terms, but she forced herself to go through a mental exercise she'd been taught in school that had probably never been meant for something like this.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered, feeling more than a little guilty, but still making a mental photograph of the scene and holding it in her mind as she'd been trained to. Next she altered the scene with careful deliberateness, feeling more like she was having a fantasy than performing an intellectual exercise. She and JJ were on the couch as they had been that day, her on her stomach and JJ leaning over her, massaging her back. This time, though, she didn't fall asleep. Instead, she turned over and kissed her. Emily jerked herself out of the 'exercise,' but her guilt was insufficient to drown out the fire coursing through her. She shook her head slightly, forcing herself to relax. Lately JJ had been entirely too aware of her, and she didn't want to wake her up, especially since she now had even more to think about. So far she'd very vividly confirmed that she was capable of a physical attraction to the other woman, but now she needed to know if it was merely a latent attraction to her own gender or if it was really her friend she wanted. So she tried the exercise again, using some of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen as her imaginary partner. While her body did sort of react, it was in the same abstract way she felt when she imagined herself with a male partner, which she tried next. Still nothing of the fire she'd felt when she'd kissed the imaginary blonde. She did notice that while she was a little more comfortable with the male image, that seemed to be more from experience than anything.

"Now what do I do?" she muttered, careful to keep her voice down. It was a serious question, and one she needed to find a way to answer, preferably before Jennifer woke up. In her mental image her friend had been responsive, but what if this whole thing were completely one sided? And even if it wasn't, would it just a physical thing? She didn't believe for a moment how she felt for this wonderful woman was just physical, since until today she'd never thought of her friend that way, but did she love her as more than a friend?

"Mmm... Emily..."

She turned her attention back to her companion, feeling JJ turn over in her arms and nuzzle against her neck. Sensitized as she was by her little 'exercise,' she was very aware of how her body reacted. She frowned inwardly, wondering how she could have possibly missed the way her heart would skip a beat then speed up, or the way her skin warmed and sort of tingled wherever the blonde touched for so long. That got her wondering if she was just imagining it, looking for something that wasn't there because of what Dr. Cameron had said. With an inward sigh she scolded herself for looking for an out. She was a profiler, not an adolescent, for all that she felt like a misbehaving teenager. She had failed to recognize the reaction because she hadn't been looking for it. It had simply never occurred to her that the way she was feeling was at all sexual. Now it seemed so much stronger because she was aware and paying close attention to every little detail. Perhaps too close if something so simple had left her gasping.

"Is this just me, Jennifer?" she whispered, stroking her hair to soothe her back into a deeper sleep, "Am I the only one feeling this?"

She sighed again, holding JJ more tightly. Cameron had certainly implied it was mutual, but she didn't know if she believed that. When she asked herself why, it came down to a simple equation of fear and doubt. She'd been burned so many times that when it came to something, someone, she really cared about, she was just too scared to hope. And that answered her second question. She was in love with JJ, her Jennifer, and she had been for a long time. Maybe since the day they'd met, maybe not. She had no way of tracking how long it had been, exactly, since it had been a subtle thing, so much so she hadn't been aware of it at all. Her mind and body had dealt with the attraction through acceptable outlets, like the gentle touches that were so much a part of their interactions, and the way her guard was always much lower around the beautiful blonde. Somehow her friend had gotten inside her defenses without setting off any alarms, and she had wondered, in some distant corner of her mind, how that was possible.

"I guess we know now..."

Her thoughts continued to race, coming to a third question. Would knowing how she felt change her relationship with JJ? That was a terrifying thought, but she forced herself to consider it. After sitting there in silent panic for a while, she realized that once again it was much more simple than she was making it out to be. This wasn't a new thing. It seemed like she'd always loved the smaller woman, and simply being aware of it didn't really change anything, except how she herself thought of things. And even if Jennifer didn't return her feelings, she didn't want to lose the connection and closeness she'd always had with her. Which of course got her wondering if she should tell JJ about the revelation. Her instinctive response was a resounding NO, but she made herself think about why before dismissing the idea out of hand. What she came up with was fairly simple. She was afraid of losing JJ, whether through prejudice, awkwardness, or even an eventual breakup. That last got her thinking again, and she decided that if somehow they did end up together, it would have to come with some reasonable surety they could last, which was very hard to come by. She couldn't lose JJ.

"Emily..."

She smiled, tightening her hold at the reminder of why she couldn't bear to lose the other woman's friendship. So, since she wasn't going to just out and say she was in love with her, she would need find ways to show her, subtle, small things that she hoped would build sufficiently for her to determine how Jennifer felt without giving too much away. Essentially seducing her, she thought with a small grin. She'd have to be careful not to let this new awareness alter her behavior too much, though. It wasn't like it had been some profound epiphany, or a bolt of lightening that came down from the sky and struck her in the head. It was just a natural conclusion to an unusual, for her, anyway, train of thought. Getting her now very jumbled thoughts and emotions was difficult, though.

"This should be interesting..."

She spent the next two hours while JJ slept making a plan, thinking of little things she could do to draw out anything beyond friendship her friend might feel for her, knowing she was limited by her physical and mental state. When the younger agent finally did wake up, she decided that she'd better put that plan into action, preferably before she chickened out.

"Mmm... Ahh..."

JJ groaned as she stretched, careful not to dislodge Emily from where she was wrapped around her. The thought reminded her that the brunette had probably been laying awake the entire time she slept, and she looked around for a clock.

"Oh, God. I can't believe it's been three hours. You must be so crushed by now."

She started to get up, but Emily's arms tightened, holding her in place.

"Not at all," she assured her, her voice low and gentle, "I was very comfortable."

The blonde looked up, silently wondering when she'd turned over to face her companion. She was extremely comfortable though, and not particularly inclined to move just yet, so she was glad Emily wasn't any more eager to get up than she was. There was something different about the expression on her friend's face, something she couldn't put a name to, but it didn't seem to be negative, so she let it be.

"How'd you sleep?"

She considered the question, then smiled.

"Like a baby," JJ answered contentedly, meeting Emily's dark eyes, "Thank you for making me take that nap, Em. I feel a lot better. So, you feeling up to having something to eat?"

"Would it involve moving?" the older woman asked teasingly, and if she didn't know better, she'd swear she was being flirted with. Of course that was ridiculous.

"Well, I don't know what you could possibly eat here. The couch, I suppose," she teased back, grinning up at her friend. Emily looked around appraisingly, as if seriously considering the idea, then fixed her dark eyes on her.

"Well... there are alternatives to the couch," her friend remarked, once again with that strange look on her face. JJ stared up at her, wondering what she could mean by that, but before she could figure it out Emily smiled gently, starting to sit up. She froze suddenly, her face a mask of pain. JJ sat up immediately, helping her friend ease herself back down. Any movement made her wince, and she could see how her throat tightened as she swallowed back a groan. Once again she cursed Samis. It was bad enough he had tortured this amazing woman to within an inch of her life. It was even worse that she'd been forced to stay silent through it all just so she could survive.

"Oh, Emily... I'm so sorry..." she whispered, shifting around so she was the one holding the older agent, rather than the other way around. She gently massaged her temples and down to her shoulders, knowing that would help take the edge off the pain. When the worst of the wave had passed she helped her sit up again, this time more slowly. Much more slowly.

"I hate this," the dark agent growled, still reeling, "I can't even sit up without... damn."

JJ sympathized. She knew how much it galled Emily not to be able to move freely, not to be able to stand up on her own or walk more than a few steps without getting dizzy or being overwhelmed by pain. She was just grateful that she let her help her. No one else on the team was allowed to see what she did, and more than once they'd gotten growled at or coldly rebuffed, though the brunette had apologized after each time that had happened. Never JJ, though. It was as if Emily just wasn't capable of turning that barely suppressed rage on her. She saw it, but around her it came out in trickles, rather than waves. Like now.

"I just want to be able to get up and walk into my kitchen, and I can't even do that without help," Emily went on, all her anger put into her words and flashing eyes, "It's not fair, Jennifer. I wish I could have just shot Samis, but I couldn't let that girl die... but she died anyway!"

She pulled her taller friend against her, rocking her gently as she cried. Emily didn't cry often, but when she did all she could do was hold her. It wasn't as if she didn't have plenty of reason to break down, after all. If it had been her, she would probably be a lot worse off. It wasn't that she thought of herself as weak, by any means. She knew better. It was that just watching that damn video had torn her apart, and if she hadn't been taking care of this incredible woman she would have just locked herself up in her own home and cried for days. If she had been the one in Emily's place...

"I've got you, Emily," she whispered, letting her own tears fall. She had learned early on, while they'd still been in the hospital, that somehow the brunette always knew when she was holding herself back, and she had seen the hurt and fear in those dark eyes when she did. It was better, they'd agreed after discussing it, for her to just let out her emotions. It gave her some release, and validated what Emily was feeling, so it helped the both of them. When her friend finally relaxed again she smiled, helping her get to her feet and to the bathroom, where they both washed off their faces, then led the way to the kitchen, sitting Emily down on one of the bar stools near the counter.

"So, what are you in the mood for?" she asked, opening the fridge to see what the options were. Garcia had gone shopping with her usual flair, she noticed, and shook her head, amused by her friend's antics. There was enough food to last them a while, most of which would keep for some time.

"Is that a serious question?" she heard Emily mutter, and turned, giving her a searching look. The dark eyes were totally focused on her, and once again she could have sworn she was being flirted with. Something had changed in the three hours she'd been asleep, she realized, but she wasn't sure what. There was a tension coursing through the other agent that hadn't been there before, but at the same time she seemed more relaxed somehow, as if something that had been bothering her had been settled. It was a strange contradiction, and one she was too tired to sort out just yet.

"Uh... yes?" she tried, and Emily grinned affectionately, her earlier anger, fear, and pain all but gone. It would be back, of course, but for now the storm had passed, and Jennifer was grateful.

"In that case, tell me what's on the menu."

For just a second, JJ found herself considering saying that she was, just to see how the brunette would react, but she put the idea off as quickly as she had it. That was crazy, after all. Not that she never flirted with Emily, or Garcia for that matter, or that Em never flirted back. But Emily never meant anything by it, so she shouldn't act as if she did, right? She felt in that moment like some little voice in the back of her mind was laughing at her, but she ignored it. She was just being silly and trying to release some tension.

"Well, Garcia did the shopping, so there are a lot of options. It's more a question of what you don't feel like having, I suppose."

Emily chuckled, looking past her into the fridge.

"You've got a point there. Well, you're the one who got all the lectures from Dr. Kelso and Nurse Khee. What can't I eat?"

She ran over the list in her head, then frowned. She was pretty sure she'd memorized everything, but she didn't want to take any chances. Being starved and dehydrated on top of being tortured had made Emily's body very sensitive to anything new or difficult to digest, Dr. Kelso had explained, and they'd need to be careful not to do anything that would upset the balance that was slowly being restored. She dug around in her bag until she found the notebook she'd used at the hospital, checking over what she'd written down.

"Well, nothing too spicy or seasoned, and nothing too sugary or salty, but he did say you could eat almost anything boiled or steamed, provided it was prepared carefully."

"I'm not old and toothless," the older woman grumbled, but it was as good-natured as possible, and JJ smiled tenderly. She knew her friend was chafing at being so restricted, but she also knew it was for her own good. She also got the sense that Emily was keeping herself calm and her temper under control as much, if not mostly, for her sake, to make her job easier, and while she appreciated it, she wished for once the brunette was a little less altruistic.

"Well, I'm certainly aware of that," she replied, deciding that maybe it was okay to flirt a little. Maybe it would cheer her companion up a little. Dark eyebrows rose a little, and she was surprised to find a hint of challenge in the deep brown eyes.

"Oh? Are you sure? Maybe I should find some way to remind you."

Inexplicably she blushed, and she was sure she was imagining the desire-the longing?- in that familiar gaze.

"Well, if you felt you needed to," she answered, keeping the mood light and easy, but still aware of the unusual undercurrent between them. Whatever had changed in Emily had met something that mirrored it in herself, she realized, but she still didn't know what that was.

"I think I'm safe enough for now," the other agent remarked, looking amused and letting whatever the tension had been fade away, "so, what should we have for dinner, mon amie?"

She tilted her head, searching the other woman's face for some hint of what was going on. Emily knew a number of languages, she knew, and had heard her speak them first hand on a number of occasions, but it somehow still struck her as odd to hear her speaking French here, to her. That struck her as important, somehow, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, and she got the feeling from her own mind that she was being obtuse. It wasn't as if she'd called her anything but a friend, though. She must be more tired than she thought, she decided. Her imagination was getting away from her.

"Well, how about I-" she started somewhat uncertainly, turning back to the fridge. She stopped abruptly, surprised to find herself being wrapped in a warm embrace and the dark-haired woman looking over her shoulder at the food waiting to be cooked. She meant to object, to tell her friend to sit back down, but something told her not to. Emily wasn't strong enough yet to stay on her feet for long, but it was good for her to get up and it made her feel better to at least be trying. Not to mention the fact that it felt really good to be held like this. It was very reassuring to feel how strong her friend still was, despite everything.

"Emily..."

"I'm not going anywhere," the dark agent whispered softly, and she stiffened. How had she known something that until that moment even JJ herself hadn't been consciously aware she was worrying about? Every minute of every day for the six days Emily had been captured she'd been terrified they'd never find her, then she'd almost died anyway. It was like a nightmare she couldn't quite shake. First Elle had been shot and then left, Morgan had been arrested for murder, Reid was taken, Gideon had left and Hotch and Emily had almost gone, then Garcia was shot, and then Emily... it was like the fates were trying to take her family away from her. And Samis had come so close to killing Emily. If she hadn't been so strong, so stubborn...

"Je ne te quitterai pas, mon amie," the brunette whispered, the French rolling smoothly from that rich, versatile voice, "I won't leave you, Jennifer. If this wasn't enough to break us, I don't know what could be."

JJ sighed, looking up into those dark eyes that looked black in the light of the kitchen.

"How do you always know what to say?" she asked softly, relaxing a little into the embrace. The brunette smiled rather sadly, tightening her grip somewhat.

"I study behavior," she answered, her voice equally soft, "Sometimes people need more than closure, need more than saving. Sometimes they need to hear things that no one else thinks to say. I know I've needed that a lot lately, and you know, you're the one who always knows. Maybe I just learned it from you."

"I think it's the other way around, Em," JJ argued, closing her eyes at the relief that washed through her, "You did it again, you know."

"Did what?"

She smiled, her mind creating a detailed picture of the expression that would be on her friend's angular face right then.

"You made the world right itself."

She could see the slight frown in her mind's eye, the small crease between those dark eyes and the confusion in their depths. When she opened her eyes, the expression was exactly as she'd pictured it, and in the back of her mind she wondered when, exactly, she'd become so familiar with this woman's features and expressions.

"Sometimes, like when Garcia was shot, I feel like the Earth is just going to fall into the sun, or worse," she explained quietly, watching emotions flicker across that mobile face, "That night in particular all the nukes on the planet could have gone off and it wouldn't have surprised me in the least. I'm not sure I would have cared if they had, because I had lost all faith in humanity, in goodness, love, and kindness. And you just sat there and took my hand..."

She demonstrated as best she could at this angle, wrapping her hand around the elegant but strong wrist, then around the long, steady hand.

"...And somehow, that was enough to restore my faith. All that night in the hospital, you were there with me. You never had to say anything then, and then you did it again when I shot Battle. You rubbed my back, and suddenly having faith made sense again. And other times all you have to do is be in the same room and I can think when I couldn't before."

Emily nodded against her shoulder, then closed the fridge and lead her over to the bar, sitting them both down on stools there. She was grateful, really, because she wasn't feeling all that stable right now, and she had started to worry that she'd somehow unbalance and hurt her friend. Somehow something Emily had said had unlocked something she'd tried to keep closed, and now it was all pouring out in a rush. As always, though, the brunette was the soul of grace and understanding, and she wondered why it didn't make her feel more guilty. It didn't, though.

"I've had to shoot people before, but that was chaos and noise, and it was very rare. When I killed Deputy Battle, though, it was just so quiet. Hotch and Rossi were just staring at me, and I couldn't tell what they were thinking... but the bastard had tried to kill Garcia twice! Then he was going to shoot up the BAU, and I knew you guys would be coming... then he was dead, and you were there. And I wanted to ask you then... would you have done it?"

"Yes, I would have. In a heartbeat," Emily responded readily, shaking her head slightly, her voice distant and cold as she added in a whisper, "Si c'était toi qui avait été blessée..."

The brunette trailed off, and for once JJ wished she knew more than basic French.

"If you had been the one hurt," Emily said after a few minutes, and she realized that she was translating, however belatedly, "If you had been the one he went after, I would have hunted him to the ends of the Earth. I love Garcia, of course, and I would have made sure Battle paid for what he did, but..."

The blonde frowned, lifting her head to look into Emily's eyes. They were darker than usual, and more distant, as if the older woman was seeing some possible future or past that haunted her. She'd seen that look a few times in the last week, and she'd always wondered what it was her friend saw that seemed to torment her so badly. She had asked once or twice, but all she'd found out was that she wasn't remembering her torture. Suddenly she got the impression that they weren't talking about Garcia and Battle any more, or at least not them specifically.

"Emily?"

Dark eyes focused on her, but there was a wall up that hadn't been there before. That settled the mental debate she'd been having. Emily was definitely holding something back, masking some emotion or thoughts that hadn't been there just a few hours ago, and while anyone else might have been fooled, she had spent far too much time around the older agent to ignore it or write it off as something minor. Emily rarely shut her out like this, and when she did something was seriously bothering her.

"Emily," she started again, "what happened while I was asleep?"

The brunette laughed softly, the sound wistful and almost bitter, then she sobered, the mask she recognized from Elizabeth Prentiss' face falling across her features.

"It doesn't matter, JJ. Don't worry about it."

Under the mask she could see a deep well of depression rising, and it worried her. She'd known that her friend would have moments like this, bitter, sad times that were all but inevitable, but that didn't mean she'd been prepared for the reality of it. Worst of all, she didn't know what had caused it. It wasn't as if they'd been talking about Samis or the torture, and up until a few moments ago her friend had been in a reasonably good mood. It was like something she'd said had blown a land mine in Emily's mind, and now the woman was hurt and scared so badly she didn't know what else to do but go numb and cold.

"I do worry about it," she argued gently, knowing she needed to walk softly, especially since she didn't know where the mines were just yet, "because you haven't called me JJ while we've been alone in over a week. What'd I do, Emily? Tell me, please."

"You didn't do anything," the brunette replied, her face and voice softening as suddenly as they had become so hard, "I'm sorry. I just had a thought that didn't exactly settle well."

JJ was starting to think this conversation would end up involving whiplash pretty soon from all the abrupt changes. She was a press liaison, so it wasn't as if she were unfamiliar with it, but it was odd coming from Emily.

"What thought?" she persisted, unwilling to drop the subject just yet. The other agent smiled sadly, her eyes so full of shadows that they looked black. She met the dark gaze unblinkingly, sensing that looking away now would be something of a failure on her part, and she refused to fail this woman. Finally Emily looked down at her hands where they rested on the bar, then hesitantly reached over, wrapping one in her longer ones.

"Just a passing thing," she murmured, but JJ got the sense that wasn't the answer to her question. The brunette was silent for a few minutes, then looked at her with an expression so torn and pained that she felt herself gasp in sympathy at the emotion there.

"Emily?"

"I never was very good at these things," her friend remarked reflectively, her voice every bit as conflicted as her expression, "I never had much practice. I don't know how to..."

She trailed off, looking down at their hands again. JJ watched her, wondering what was going through that agile mind. Her free hand came up, her fingertips caressing her hair and pushing it back behind her ear, and the blonde shivered a little under the look of almost painful tenderness on her companion's face.

"Tu es si belle, ma chère."

Well that certainly hadn't been what she expected, but she'd take it. She wasn't sure of the exact meaning, but she knew she'd just been complimented. The phone rang before she could ask, though, and Emily was moving toward it, brushing her arm as she went. The contact was startlingly normal, reminding her of how things were before all of this. It reassured and touched her, and she smiled affectionately as the older woman picked up her phone.

"Prentiss."

JJ was content to watch her friend for the moment, wondering what it was she hadn't said. Suddenly Emily paled, her skin so starkly white that she looked deathly ill. The blonde was on her feet in seconds, but still she barely managed to catch the phone before it hit the floor. Forgetting all about dinner or anything else, she took hold of one stiff, trembling arm and lead her friend back to the couch, just managing to get her there before her knees buckled from under her. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but she could see that Emily was both terrified and extremely angry, and the adrenaline wasn't good for her. It could trigger flashbacks or worse.

"This is Agent Jareau," she growled into the phone, her voice a none too subtle threat, "Who is this?"

"JJ, it's Morgan," the familiar voice replied, sounding worried, "What just happened? Is Prentiss okay?"

"No, Derek," she retorted sharply, pulling a conveniently placed blanket over the other agent when she started to shiver slightly, sitting next to her and rubbing her arm with her free hand, "She's not okay. What the hell did you say to her? She was doing okay before you called, and now..."

She heard him groan, and could picture the hangdog look on his face. She knew she was being hard on him, but whatever he said had upset her companion, and she resented that. This had been a better day for Emily. She'd smiled and laughed more since she'd woken up than she had in days. She didn't want that to be taken away again.

"Samis may have had a partner," Derek finally answered, "or at least told someone what he was doing, someone who decided he had the right idea. Ambassador Prentiss was nearly attacked in her home, but her security stopped the guy. He got away, though, so her head of security called us. The last thing he said was that her daughter would pay for what happened to Jonah."

"You're telling me someone threatened to kill Emily?" she clarified, looking over at her clearly upset friend. She wrapped a protective arm around her, her expression an apology for the stark comment. Emily, who seemed impossibly paler, managed to smile wanly, working to pull herself together. Her admiration for the woman grew, but she wished she could tell her it wasn't necessary. At the moment, though, it just might be.

"We think he knows where she lives, JJ," he went on, knowing he didn't need to repeat her last statement. The blonde mumbled curses under her breath, wishing she could shout them out loud but knowing better.

"And what-"

She paused, hearing muffled footsteps just outside the door, then rose, grabbing her gun and Emily's from their nearby bags, though she was loath to move from her shaking companion's side. She returned immediately, handing the brunette's weapon to her. Emily checked to make sure it was loaded, then clipped it to her waist band. Though she still looked frightened, she was starting to look more like the steady, reliable FBI agent she was, and her dark eyes were full of rising fire. The brunette hid behind the couch, knowing as well as JJ did that she wasn't strong enough to move much further.

"Get some people over here NOW, Derek," she hissed, putting the phone down and moving slowly toward the door. Before she had gone more than a few steps it was kicked in, revealing a man who looked a great deal like Jonah Samis, although Jonah had been middle-aged while this man looked a little younger than Emily herself. When she tried to raise her gun, he laughed, aiming a gun of his own at her.

"Put it down, or you die along with her."

She hated doing it, but she slowly lowered the weapon, not so much because she was afraid to die as she was afraid he'd kill her and get to Emily before help could show up. She had to keep him occupied until the others showed up.

"Now, where is she?" the man rumbled, a manic gleam in his green eyes as he started forward, keeping just out of her reach. She stood her ground, refusing to give anything away. She just had to buy time, she reminded herself. Just a little longer, surely. Hopefully Emily would stay hidden, and she found herself praying to every god she knew that her friend would make it out of this alive. She'd suffered enough already.

"I know she's here," he went on, "The Ambassador may have been brave and stoic, so true to form, but her aide was not. He told me she'd be here today. Now, just give her to me and no one else has to get hurt."

JJ stared back at him, her blue eyes focused and intent. When he forced her back against a wall and tried to brush past her to check the rest of the condo, she lunged, trying to knock the gun out of his hands or at least keep him from going closer to Emily. He started to turn, obviously meaning to kill or disable her, but suddenly a dark form slammed into him, bearing him down to the ground and wrestling for control of the weapon.

"You touch one hair on her head, Samis, and I will torture you in ways your brother never dreamed," Emily growled dangerously, and JJ, who had started to move to help, stared at her, surprised to see her up, much less fighting so hard with a grown man.

"You hurt her," the brunette went on, her tone dropping even lower, "and I guarantee that I will tear you into so many pieces no one will ever find them all."

"My brother said there was something wrong with you," the intruder muttered, trying to struggle out from beneath the dark woman's body or at least free his hands, which for the moment she held pinned, "he said your mother used to ask him why you could never be what you were supposed to be, and why you let so many opportunities slip away."

The blonde expected her friend to react, but her dark eyes were cold and focused. JJ could see what it was costing her, though, and so could Samis. With sudden violence he rolled Emily off of him and knocked her into the wall. The impact was enough to stun her, and he grinned, drawing a hunting knife from out of his boot. He had apparently forgotten his gun, as well as the other agent still in the room, but JJ was ready. She scooped up her own gun and kicked his away, then rushed forward, pressing her weapon to the back of his head. Now she understood the feral quality to Emily's face when she'd hit him. He was trying to hurt Emily. No one hurt Emily in her presence.

"Move away from her, slowly," JJ commanded, her voice so cold and full of barely suppressed rage that she startled herself a little, "and if you make one wrong move, I'll kill you."

"It would kill you to lose her, wouldn't it, little Emily?" he asked the dazed woman mockingly, though JJ noticed that he did ease a step or two away from them both, a hint of fear in his face at the proximity of the blonde and her gun, "I saw my brother's tapes. I saw everything, not just the torture. You'd cry in your sleep, you know. Always for your Jennifer, always for your aimée. Does she know, Emily? Does she know about you?"

He looked down at the dark agent to gauge her reaction, grinning sadistically just as his brother had. The expression faltered, though, when Emily, who had shaken off the worst of the apparent dizziness, just glared back at him, her eyes as cold as the other woman's icy blue gaze. He turned back to JJ, looking her up and down.

"You're pretty enough, I suppose," he observed, sounding amused, "but I don't see why Emily would be willing to lay down her life for yours. She would have, you know. And what a waste it would have been. Pretty girls almost never have the brains to back up their looks. And she could have had so much better, too. My brother always thought I would make a good husband for her. I could keep her in line. Did you know we actually dated once? Never seen such a little-"

"You shut your mouth," Emily hissed suddenly, shifting so she was in a crouch and drawing her gun, the motion distracting JJ from the mild irritation at the insult that was nothing next to her other emotions, "You have no right to look at her, much less say anything like that. Now back off and shut up."

He did back up another step, looking between the two women. His fear visibly grew when he realized that there were two guns being held by two extremely angry women, and they were trained to kill. Never had JJ seen a man look so helplessly frustrated before in all her time with the BAU, and she realized then just how insane he was, and how dangerous to Emily. Before she could reflect on it though, Hotch and Morgan rushed in. His green eyes widened when he saw them, and he lunged at JJ, clearly hoping to do some damage before he was taken, probably realizing that if he could take her down, he'd have a hostage, a bargaining chip, and if he could kill her he'd do a great deal of damage to the brunette. To all their surprise, Emily rose and caught him in the abdomen with her knee, all in one fluid motion, as she had done to Morgan more than once in sparring sessions. He hung suspended, completely winded, for just a second, then she shifted her weight and kicked him into the wall. His head hit with an audible thump, and in the back of her mind JJ was impressed he hadn't made a dent in the wall.

"Get him out of my sight," Emily growled fiercely, but they could all see that whatever had given her that burst of strength was fading, "Before I shoot him myself."

She turned, stumbling slightly as she did, and caught hold of the man, pitching him to the ground in front of the other agents. They stared, a bit stunned, but Hotch recovered rapidly, handcuffing the younger Samis and shoving him toward Morgan, who yanked him out with such force that he was practically carrying him. JJ started toward Emily, but those dark eyes froze her in place when they met her own. There was such loathing, fear, anger, and helplessness in them that she wondered how the woman wasn't screaming out her rage and pain. Suddenly they gentled, and Emily had moved to her side, a soft, faintly trembling hand brushing her arm as if its owner needed to be reassured she was still there.

"Emily, are you..." JJ started to ask, then trailed off, unsure of how to finish the question. Emily was not okay, and to ask would be foolish and somewhat insulting. The brunette understood, though, and gave her another wan smile.

"I'll live," she answered calmly, though her voice, like the rest of her, was a bit shaky, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," she assured her friend, helping her to one of the nearby bar stools so she could sit down while their boss asked them any questions he might have, "I'm fine, thanks to you."

"Are you sure you two are all right?" Hotch asked, stepping forward and taking in the scene. They both nodded, though JJ could feel her companion trembling a little under her hand. He sighed, shaking his head tiredly.

"I'm so sorry we weren't here sooner. We tried, but..."

"It's all right, Hotch," Emily reassured him softly, and two pairs of eyes, one clouded blue, one intense yellow-brown, turned to her, both a little surprised, and both very concerned. The dark agent shook her head, then groaned faintly, leaning it against JJ's side instead. The blonde was a little startled at first, then she smiled to herself, reaching down to carefully stroke the dark hair.

"I'll make sure that door gets fixed tonight, but... I have to ask. Would you feel better if you were somewhere else? Now that your home has been violated..."

Emily sighed, meeting her boss's hawk-like gaze with amazing calm for how tense JJ could feel she was.

"I don't want to go anywhere, at least not tonight. I just want to eat something then sleep. If I can't deal with it, then I'll leave. That is..."

She hesitated, then turned to look up at her companion.

"That is, if you don't mind, JJ. If you want to go..."

The liaison shook her head, feeling a weary, affectionate smile cross her face. Emily was such a treasure. She was still worried about her, even though she was the one who was injured and had just had her home violated. She could she was serious, too. If she wanted to leave, Emily would haul herself out along with her. She didn't want to leave, though. For one, it was obvious the brunette didn't want to. For another, she didn't care where she was, as long as it was with this woman.

"Okay. I'll get a team over here for the door," Hotch stated, already lifting his phone, "JJ, why don't you get Emily upstairs? I'll stay and make you both some dinner, since it doesn't look like you had a chance to make anything. And don't argue with me. You both look dead on your feet."

JJ chuckled wryly, leading Emily to the stair elevator. It was the first time the dark agent had ridden it, and she chuckled merrily on the way up, sounding, if only for a moment, like her usual self. In her bedroom the press liaison helped her change into something more suitable for sleep, using the opportunity to give her friend a brief massage. Her friend chuckled when she started, but within minutes her body was relaxing under JJ's touch, and the blonde got the very cooperative profiler into bed, where she continued the massage, hoping it would help to ease the headache she was sure to have later.

"Je suis si heureux vous êtes bien," the brunette muttered quietly as she worked out the last knots in her back and neck, "Et un jour vous comprendrez pourquoi, mon cher."

JJ worked her way through what little she understood of the French, wondering once again why her friend kept reverting to it. Maybe because she didn't want to say what she was saying in English? Or maybe she couldn't? It would make sense. Emily had already said she wasn't good at finding the right words, though the liaison disagreed. She did know she'd said something about being glad or happy and the word for good or well had been in there, so she assumed Emily was saying something about being glad she was well, but the second part confused her. The only word she was sure of was the one for understand or comprehend.

"Em?"

There was no answer, and at first she was worried, at least until she realized that the dark woman had fallen asleep. She grinned, proud that once again she'd managed to soothe her friend with something as simple as a massage. She got a rather strong sense of accomplishment from that.

"Dors bien, mon amie," she whispered, brushing dark hair from her companion's face. She hadn't studied French since early on in college, and she decided she was overdue for a brush up. First she needed to check with Hotch, which would require her to go downstairs. She frowned at the thought, then shook her head. She'd be back within a few minutes, and hopefully Emily was relaxed enough that she'd be okay for that long. She slipped out silently and went down to the kitchen, where Hotch was cooking something with the skill of a master chef, occasionally glancing toward the three guys replacing the door. It had already been painted to match the old one, and it was clear one of the men was a locksmith. She smiled at that, amused by the sides to Hotch she'd never seen before. How he had gotten a painter, a carpenter, and a locksmith out here so quickly, she doubted she'd ever know.

"How's it going?" she asked softly, and he looked over at her, giving her one of his small smiles.

"Pretty well. They'll be finished in a short time, and so will this. How is Prentiss?"

"As well as can be expected," she replied softly, and he gave her an understanding look before turning back to his work.

"She's tough, JJ. And she's got you. I think you'll make it."

At face value the comment was exactly what it was, but something knowing and almost smug in her boss's face gave JJ pause, and she looked again, making Hotch look up at her, his intense eyes faintly amused. She stared at him, wondering why he seemed to know something she didn't that seemed to be about Emily, and it didn't seem like he was going to tell her.

"Sir?" she tried. He smiled, going back to his cooking, though she could tell he was still paying attention to her.

"Yes, JJ?"

"Do you know something about Emily I don't?"

He seemed to sigh and covered the pan he'd been using, setting it off the heat before turning back to her. She was startled to see a flicker of pain in his face, but it was gone so fast she was left wondering if she'd imagined it.

"JJ, I know a lot about Emily Prentiss. I've known her family for a long time."

He paused, hesitating visibly, then seemed to decide some internal debate and fixed her with his hawk-like eyes, the intense stare making him look all the more the predator for a moment. The look made her nervous, but she wasn't going to back down right when he seemed to be ready to tell her something. Finally he blinked, though it did nothing to lessen his intensity.

"It isn't my place to interfere with the personal lives of my team, and I won't unless I feel they're in danger. All I can tell you is that I think you both have things to figure out, both separately and together. Where that will take you, I don't know. I wish you both the best, however."

He sighed, turning away before she could ask him any more. He checked over his creation, which she still hadn't identified, glanced at the workers again, then looked back at her.

"This will be done in about ten minutes, and they look like they're just about done."

She nodded, understanding that their previous conversation was done and he wasn't going to say more about it. She sighed inwardly, wishing he would be less cryptic, but he had a point. It wasn't his place to get involved in their personal lives, and if there was something she needed to figure out, it was better that she do it herself. And unless whatever it was could harm Emily, she'd wait for the other agent to tell her on her own terms. She had started to earlier, so maybe it wouldn't be too long. The thought cheered her up, and she started to think of other things.

"I think I should take a shower," she commented hesitantly, realizing how true it was as she caught sight of herself in the reflective surface of the chrome fridge, "but I really don't want to leave Emily alone any longer. Could you-"

"Of course, JJ," he interrupted gently, "I'll be up as soon as this is done."

She smiled gratefully and slipped back upstairs, stopping just long enough to grab a set of clean clothes from her bag. She was immediately reassured when she entered the bedroom that Emily was still calm and relaxed, and it was only reluctantly that JJ woke her, wanting giving her a chance to compose herself before Hotch came up but wishing she could just let her sleep. She needed it, and she had looked so peaceful, but she also needed food. She could sleep after she ate.

"Would you mind if I took a shower?" she asked softly once Emily was awake, "Hotch can stay with you and-"

"Breathe, Jennifer," the brunette interrupted sweetly, visibly trying to hold back laughter, "That's fine, and of course I don't mind. Hotch and I can converse reasonably intelligently, and after that wonderful massage I doubt I'll have any problems. It isn't as if Hotch and I haven't been alone for periods of time before this."

The blonde chuckled, realizing how anxious she'd sounded. She was beyond grateful that the woman could be so incredibly understanding, and could take care of her in subtle ways when she was the one who was supposed to be the caretaker. She was tempted to feel bad about it, but the brunette's expression and tone seemed to be refusing to let her.

"I'm sure Agent Prentiss and I can manage, JJ," Hotch added reassuringly as he came in bearing a laden tray, "and this should keep until you're done. Now go. Knowing you, you'll worry the whole time, so the sooner you start the sooner you'll finish. We'll be fine here for a little while."

She laughed, knowing it was true and also aware she was stalling. With another quick look and smile at Emily she carried her clothes into the bathroom, finding that of course Garcia had prepared. There were two bath towels and two robes hung up, and she shook her head, writing herself a mental note to thank the tech goddess later. She owed her for all of this.

"Now how do I repay her?" she muttered to herself as she started the shower, glancing around and noting that the fixtures were elegant and tasteful, and the room was painted and tiled in warm shades of red, gold, and just a little orange. The robes and towels matched, of course, since Garcia did have quite an eye for colors, and overall the room gave an impression of cleanliness, order, and welcome, much as the rest of the condo did. It was all very much like the woman who lived here, and as she stepped into the hot spray she smiled inwardly, her thoughts turning from the decor to Emily, where they were often centered these days. It wasn't a new thing, she noticed, but the older woman was her friend, and it made sense that she'd spend a lot of time thinking about her,

"Ugh..."

She hadn't realized how tense she was until the pounding of the hot water started relaxing her muscles, and she leaned back, letting the liquid wash over her, taking away the dirt, sweat, and fear she'd been carrying with her. She found Emily's shampoo and conditioner, subtly fragrant, herbal products that explained some of why Emily's hair tended to look and smell so good. With an inward sigh of relief she scrubbed herself rapidly, uncomfortable being away from her "charge" for long, even knowing her very capable supervisor was there with her. She dried herself with the thick, fluffy towel Garcia had left and dressed quickly, having chosen a pair of old black shorts and a loose gray t-shirt she usually wore to bed. She was still toweling her hair dry when she stepped back into Emily's room, but she noticed the way brown-black eyes tracked to her immediately, and then stopped. She smiled a greeting, but just for a second the brunette didn't respond. She seemed transfixed by something, and her eyes darkened with some strange, unidentifiable expression. JJ started to worry after a moment, but Emily suddenly blinked and the look was gone, replaced by her much more familiar smile, though even that was shaded with something else, and her pale cheeks were just a little flushed.

"Hey. You have a good shower?" the older agent asked warmly, although her tone betrayed just a hint of something else, nervousness or shyness that wasn't usually present in her voice, especially around JJ, "You find everything okay?"

She nodded, laying the towel across her shoulders to keep her hair from soaking her shirt and moving to her friend's side, glancing at the barely touched plate in front of her and noticing the frisson of tension that seemed to pass through the other woman when she came near, but it was gone so fast she wasn't sure it had been there at all. After all, Emily had rarely, if ever, been uncomfortable having her close by.

"I did, thanks," she answered contentedly, then fixed her friend with a piercing look and added, "but you were supposed to eat, and it looks like you haven't. I doubt Hotch is that bad a cook, so..."

Emily blushed faintly, and their boss chuckled, rising to his feet.

"She insisted on waiting for you," he explained, "and as I said, it'll keep. So, unless you two need anything else, I'll be going. The leftovers are already in the fridge and the door is finished."

He started for the door, and had a hand on the knob before he was halted.

"Hotch?"

He turned back to the dark agent, and JJ was a little surprised to see that where Emily looked just a little uncertain and shy, Hotch's expression had gentled and he looked both understanding and kind. She started wondering what they had been talking about, but wasn't sure if she should ask.

"Do you really think..."

She looked between them when the brunette trailed off, her expression just a little helpless. Hotch actually smiled then, taking a step back toward them.

"I do," he answered, and JJ was more than a little confused now, "Don't worry, Emily. I'm sure it'll work out the way it should. It'll be fine."

He waited until Emily smiled before nodding and stepping out, leaving one faintly blushing and one very confused federal agent. JJ desperately wanted to ask, but decided against it for now. Emily deserved whatever privacy she could get, and it didn't seem to be anything bad, so she let it be, focusing instead on the more immediate concern of food and ensuring that said food was in the stomach of Emily Prentiss. She'd think more about the issue later, but for now she just wanted to be next to this woman and revel in the fact that for just a little while, she was safe, she was reasonably happy, and that JJ was there with her. That was all that was important at the moment, and Emily seemed to agree. They started to eat together, talking about little things, and soon they were both laughing easily, as if that earlier tension had never existed. The world could wait a while, she decided as she watched her friend. She had everything she needed.

**Date and Time: April 13, 2007, 07:33**

**Location: BAU Office Corridor, Quantico, Virginia**

JJ walked into her office and turned on the lights, setting down her bag and powering up her computer before going back out, heading for the break room to get coffee. She didn't always come in this early, but she had a lot of backlog to deal with from the last two months and she preferred the quiet peace that came with having almost no one else there. She scanned the bullpen, as she always did, expecting it to be empty, but to her surprise one desk was lit. She frowned worriedly, wondering why someone from her team would be here this early. She got her coffee and strode over, surprised and concerned when she saw a dark head resting against an unusually messy surface, the expression on the face half-covered by hair strained even in repose. Something wasn't right.

"Emily?" she called softly, but the dark form didn't even stir. She felt her heart starting to beat a little faster and set her mug down off to the side, reaching over to gently shake her friend's shoulder. Once again there was little response, though she could feel that the muscles under her hand were tense and stiff.

"Emily?" she repeated, louder this time, "Emily, wake up. It's JJ, Emily. Wake up."

She carefully reached over and brushed the dark hair off the other agent's face, needing to see if she was hurt in any way. She seemed physically unhurt, but her eyes were ringed by deep, heavy shadows and there was an almost painful tension about the woman's expression.

"Emily?!"

She tried shaking her friend again, this time getting a faint groan in response. Taking that as better than nothing she tried again, this time a little more firmly.

"Emily, wake up. Please wake up..."

Finally the shadowed eyes flickered, then opened slowly, revealing exhausted, bloodshot eyes that were a murky, dull brown rather than their usual deep, lively brown-black. JJ was getting more worried by the minute, and she kneeled at her friend's side, a hand on one black-clothed knee. Emily was wearing the same black v-neck and slacks she'd last seen her in, but now they were somewhat wrinkled and unkempt, something she knew her friend would not want their colleagues to see.

"Uhhh... what..."

Finally awake and aware, Emily looked around dazedly, obviously disoriented and confused. When her gaze landed on her blonde coworker she frowned, but JJ thought she saw relief in her friend's eyes and felt a subtle relaxation of the body under her hands. She wondered at it, but it wasn't her priority. Right now she was mostly concerned with ensuring that Emily was unhurt and finding out what was wrong, because there was no disputing that something was.

"JJ?" the brunette asked, her voice dry and husky with sleep, "What are you... what time is it?"

"It's just after seven-thirty," she answered softly, guessing from the way her companion was wincing that she had a headache, and probably some other aches from the way she'd been sleeping, "I just got in and found you here. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Emily looked confused, then blinked slowly, seeming to realize how this must look and shook her head, sitting up and stretching. She groaned and winced, and JJ agreed with the sentiment. From the number and volume of joints that popped into place she probably hurt all over.

"I'm okay," the older agent replied, though her expression and appearance gave lie to the sentiment, "I'm not hurt or anything. I just can't believe I dozed off..."

JJ shook her head, planning to get a much better answer in the near future, but for now she just reached back and picked up her coffee and held it out to Emily, who looked like she needed it a lot more than she did. The brunette gave her such a pathetically grateful look that she blushed, but she was distracted by the sight of the hand that took the mug from her own. Emily's hands were graceful and elegant, much like her, but today they were scuffed, bruised, and swollen, and now that she was awake JJ could see that her eyes were red-rimmed and a little swollen too, as if she'd been crying. Now she was really worried, but as badly as she wanted answers, she didn't want anyone else to come in and see her friend like this.

"Come into my office and I'll get you some more coffee," she suggested, though her tone made it something of a command. The older agent didn't argue, just followed her with slow, deliberate strides and none of her usual grace. When she had Emily seated on the couch she would always be grateful Hotch had allowed her to have in here, she went back to the break room and refilled her mug and picked up another one, filling it too and carrying both back with her. She gave Emily hers, watching her wrap those damaged hands around it as if it were a holy artifact.

"Now spill," she stated firmly after giving her friend time to take a few sips, kneeling down so she was at eye level with the other woman. Her blue eyes brooked no argument, and the brunette sighed, looking down at the dark fluid as if hoping answers would pour from it. When they didn't she met JJ's gaze, looking even more tired and worn than she had before.

"I told you I was having dinner with my mother yesterday... Wednesday night, right?" she asked, waiting for the liaison to nod before going on, "Well, we went out and had dinner, and it was going great, all things considered. She was on her best behavior, I was on mine, you know the drill. We were actually getting along for what might be the first time in at least twenty-five years. We parted on good terms, and I felt like we had really reached an understanding, you know?"

The blonde nodded, but kept silent, knowing there was more. Emily sighed again, and her friend wondered what could have happened between then and now to do so much damage. She'd known the Ambassador's presence had been hard on her friend, and had done what she could during and after the case to keep her in good spirits, but she'd left for that dinner hopeful, and now...

"Well," the dark agent went on, shaking her head, "I got home, things were fine, and then the next day I get a call from one of my parents' staff that they had asked me to join them for dinner. It was rather sudden, but I just assumed that my mother and I had bonded or at least called a truce and she wanted to spend more time with me. God, I was so stupid."

"What happened, Emily?" JJ asked softly when she trailed off. She didn't like hearing her usually confident friend insult herself, and she knew that somehow Elizabeth Prentiss and/or her husband was responsible, but she kept her anger to herself.

"When I got there everything seemed normal, but then my mother told me she had just received an assignment and she'd been called away, and my father too. She had invited a couple friends to 'keep me company' so I wouldn't have 'traveled all that way for no reason at all,' as she put it, so I went into the dining room, and was promptly greeted by several of the most eligible scions of the upper echelon. All wealthy, cultured, and successful, of course. I felt like they were all sizing me, and each other, up."

The blonde growled inwardly, fighting to keep her disgust from showing. She knew how Emily felt about her parents shoving men at her. They'd talked about that before, and it was something they shared a passionate hatred for.

"That wasn't the worst of it, though," Emily went on, startling her out of her seething thoughts, "Apparently my parents 'suggested' that I would be open to invitations to... well, almost anything. All but one of them I was able to get out of, but one guy was very insistent, and I thought... I don't know. Maybe it would be okay, and it might satisfy my parents, I guess. He was the younger brother of an old friend of theirs, Daniel Samis, and I figured if I could just get through dinner with him and he brought a good enough report back to his brother..."

"So, how did it turn out?"

The older agent shook her head, her expression shifting from irritated to sad to simply weary.

"He was handsome, charming, and polite. By the end of dinner he had talked so much about his dreams for his future wife and family, and about how his wife would be able to do anything she wanted as long as she was safe and happy, and oh, what did I do? FBI, now isn't that something, well, he didn't think his wife should do something that dangerous but... And so on. He talked like he was going to propose then and there, and I would never even dream of refusing. I finally escaped by pretending I had been called into work, and I drove here since I figured I might as well blow off some steam in the gym. When I finished I realized I hadn't finished my report on this last case because I was distracted by my mother, so..."

"And you ended up falling asleep at your desk?"

The question made Emily blush faintly and look away, staring down into the mug she still held.

"Well... yes?" she mumbled helplessly, meeting her eyes again with an expression so like a puppy expecting to be scolded that the press liaison was both charmed and apologetic for the teasing. She shook her head, letting the issue go at that, but she was still concerned. After all, her friend's hands were still badly bruised, and the poor woman still looked horribly exhausted. She also looked a little gaunt, as if she hadn't eaten for a while, and she wondered a bit about that. She would find out in due time, but first she needed to take care of the injuries, since it obviously hadn't occurred to the other agent to do so.

"Okay, Emily," she started decisively, "You stay here, and I'm going to get something for your hands, something for you to eat, and if your ready-bag is here I'm going to get you a change of clothes. That is... if you won't just let me take you home."

The look in her companion's dark eyes answered that immediately, and she chuckled wryly, shaking her head as she rose. Stubbornness was something all profilers seemed to have in common, and Emily had it in spades. She had met Ambassador Prentiss briefly when she'd come to the BAU with the Chernus family, and she reflected on the differences and similarities between mother and daughter while she went about her self-appointed tasks. They both had strong wills, there was no doubt of that, but something had bothered her about the Ambassador. She had struck JJ as so guarded she was almost cold at times, and at others she'd worn a mask of warmth and sincerity that she had immediately distrusted. In her line of work she dealt with people who would as soon tear a person apart as give them anything, and that's how she had felt with Emily's mother. The woman must have her good points, though. She had raised Emily, after all. The blonde smiled at the thought. Dark, brilliant, sweet, goofy Emily, who would sooner die than betray her, or betray the team. She knew that as surely as she knew she'd do the same for Emily and the others. She just wondered where her friend had gained that depth and loyalty. Maybe Elizabeth Prentiss had once had it, and somewhere along the line, the demands of her work and the role she had to play had taken it away from her. It was a scary thought, but it would explain a great deal about the diplomat.

"Oh, God, let me help you with that!" Emily exclaimed when she strode back into the room, juggling the black ready-bag, a first aid kit, and a paper bag. She smiled warmly, letting her friend take the paper bag, largely since it was for her any way, but holding onto the kit and setting the ready-bag down on the floor next to the couch.

"It's just from the academy cafeteria," she explained, "but it's better than nothing, since it looks like nothing is all you had yesterday. Did you not eat when what's-his-name took you out?"

Emily rolled her eyes, digging through the paper bag and coming up with a turkey and cheese sandwich, which she unwrapped and bit into greedily.

"No, actually," she replied somewhat irritably once she'd swallowed the mouthful she had, "Daniel took us to this horrendously fashionable restraint, where the cheapest thing on the menu is a twenty dollar appetizer, and he decided he needed to order for both of us. I couldn't exactly tell him I would much rather go to a deli on the rough side of town then eat anything on that menu, so I just sort of..."

"Pushed your food around and feigned interest?" JJ finished understandingly, then something occurred to her, so she added uncertainly, "but Emily... don't take this the wrong way, but weren't you raised with... well..."

She couldn't find a tactful way to finish the sentence, but she didn't need to. Those dark eyes flashed for just a second, but then they softened, becoming much more amused than angry. JJ hadn't missed the momentary defensiveness, though, and she regretted bringing it up. She knew that was a sore spot for Emily, and she hated when people made assumptions.

"I was raised with a silver spoon, yes. The whole set of silver, actually," the brunette answered calmly, then grinned a little wickedly, adding, "but that doesn't mean I didn't find the most creative ways I could to dispose of my food without actually having to eat it. My mother's table was one of the best among her circle, but I would have much rather gone out to some dive my mother and her friends would never be seen within a mile of. And fast-food, well..."

The liaison laughed, knowing she'd been forgiven for her slip-up and grateful that Emily was so willing to accept from her what she wouldn't tolerate from others. As for the image of her friend eating at some little hole-in-the-wall diner, that was a little hard, but not at all impossible. She'd discovered in the months the brunette had been working with them that while she did have a taste for the finer things in life, she was perfectly happy with take out and fast food. Sometimes on cases they didn't have anything else, and she knew Morgan and Reid had been sure Emily would never be seen eating a McDonald's cheeseburger, but she had, and she'd enjoyed it. It was a side to her elegant, poised friend that she was very fond of, and she knew got to see it more than most. Watching her now, tearing contentedly into a simple turkey sandwich, made her wonder once again how Elizabeth Prentiss could have become the way she was if she had ever been like her incredible daughter. Now that, she couldn't imagine.

"Thank you so much, JJ," the brunette murmured as she ate, digging out the bag of apple slices that was in the bag, as well as the little container of yogurt. The blonde shook her head but didn't say anything, still lost in her thoughts. Ambassador Prentiss couldn't be all bad, really. She was just angry with the woman for upsetting Emily, she decided. As confident and sure as she appeared with their colleagues, JJ knew there were a couple of very deep cracks in her armor, and one of them was her mother. She'd seen both the fragile hope and the doubts in her expression and bearing when she'd left to have dinner with the Ambassador, and it seemed the doubts had been validated. She thought her friend beyond brave for trying to mend things with her mother, but it hurt to see how the effort had turned out.

"JJ?" Emily asked suddenly, looking at her worriedly, "Is something wrong?"

"What? No, nothing. Why?"

"You just looked really... sad for a second there. Are you sure you're all right?"

JJ understood then that more of her thoughts must have been showing on her face than she'd intended, and she sighed inwardly, moving to sit next to her companion, her expression serious and focused.

"Yes, I'm all right," she replied soothingly, "but I'm sorry thing turned out the way they did for you. If I had known yesterday I would have found some way to get you free of what's-his-name. I think you would have had a much better time with me."

"I know I would have," Emily remarked firmly, "I have more fun with you than I think I've had with anyone in my life."

The liaison blushed, but she didn't doubt the statement. The other agent sounded much too definite for that. Instead she waited for her to finish eating before working on her hands, doctoring them gently but thoroughly.

"Why didn't you wear gloves, Em?" she asked curiously after she'd finished cleaning and taping the injured extremities. The brunette sighed, leaning her head back against the couch.

"I did."

Now JJ had a good picture of just how frustrated she must have been to do that much damage even with gloves on. She almost felt sorry for the punching bag she'd used. At the same time she rather wished she could inflict similar harm on Daniel Samis for upsetting her friend so badly, or helping to anyway.

"Was it that bad?"

The question was rhetorical, and they both knew it. The brunette rolled her eyes toward her, then smiled suddenly, looking like she'd remembered something.

"Hey, did you ever hear from that detective from New Orleans?"

JJ blushed at the question, thinking about Det. LaMontagne and the last time she'd talked to him. Garcia and Emily were the only people she'd told about his interest in her, and only Emily knew all the details, since she hadn't found the time to talk to the tech goddess about it. Between the case in New Orleans, the arsons in San Francisco, and the case with the Chernus's, Garcia had been swamped, leaving poor Emily as the only outlet she had.

"Uh... yeah, I did," she answered, blushing all the more at how embarrassed she knew she sounded, "He invited me down to visit him. Promised a real date and all, rather than just a working drink."

Emily nodded, listening attentively and patiently as she always did. That somehow made it easier to talk to her than it sometimes was with Garcia. The profiler never rushed her, never interrupted her with silly or teasing questions, which wasn't to say that Emily didn't tease her. She did, mercilessly at times. It was just that she always seemed to know when JJ just needed to think her way through things, and she gave the impression that she'd wait as long as it took.

"I... I turned him down," she finished finally, looking down at the bandaged hands she still held in her own, "I decided that while I really, really like the guy, I wasn't willing to fly all the way down there just to see him. And I would certainly never up and leave the BAU for him."

She looked up as she spoke, and was startled to see a flash of pain and fear cross those dark eyes at the idea. It was gone quickly, replaced by a calmer expression, but she knew it had been there, and she had a good idea at its source.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised gently, then, hoping to lighten the mood, added, "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Emily Prentiss. No guy is going to take me away from here, away from all of you. You need me too much."

"Yes, we do."

JJ tilted her head, giving her friend a long look. The reply had been almost husky, and was just a little too raw. Emily did need her, she realized, and far more than William LaMontagne Jr. did, no matter what he said. Looking down at those bandaged hands reminded her all over again just how much her friend depended on her, and also how much she depended on Emily. No guy would be worth losing this woman for, and she wasn't naive enough to think they could maintain their closeness over the phone and e-mail. It was possible she and Garcia could manage it, if somewhat unlikely, but so much of the communication that passed between her and the woman next to her was in contact and expressions. She didn't want to lose that.

"Why don't you stay here, Emily?" she suggested suddenly, kicking herself for not thinking of it sooner, then went on when her friend gave her a confused look, "I mean stay here in my office, on the couch. You need to get some rest, and this way you'll be right here if something comes up. And don't worry, I'll get my work done and you won't be disturbing me. I just want you to rest. Please?"

She knew she was babbling a little from the look her companion was giving her, but she could read the grateful acceptance in those dark eyes, and that was enough for her. She mentally scolded Garcia for passing on that particular habit, then refocused, getting Emily settled on her couch and wishing the stubborn profiler would let her take her home, but of course she wouldn't. She went back to her desk somewhat reluctantly, working her way through the contents of her inbox. After about ten minutes she looked up, feeling someone watching her. Emily, of course, her gaze focused and direct.

"Em?"

"I was just thinking," the brunette answered softly, "you really are the best friend I think I've had. I just thought you should know that."

JJ smiled warmly, going back to her work with a lighter heart. It was like the simple comment had taken off some load she hadn't been aware of carrying. After another few minutes the atmosphere of the room seemed to change, becoming more peaceful, and she looked up, feeling her face soften at the sight of Emily Prentiss curled up on her office couch, dead to the world. As she went through the files, she discovered that she was thinking more clearly than before, as if the world had suddenly come into sharper focus. Even the grueling work of choosing which cases to reject and which to consider seemed to be just a little less depressing, though it was by no means easy or simple. When she'd finally sifted through the really urgent work, she gave herself a moment to sit back and think about the change. It wasn't the first time she'd felt this, she realized, a little surprised by the conclusion she'd come up with. It seemed to happen whenever she and Emily were in the same room, like the older agent gave off some indefinable aura that just soothed the soul. JJ settled back to her task with a faint smile. She had called Emily magic before, and now she'd discovered yet another way the incredible woman seemed to heal and strengthen her without even trying. One day she'd have to find a way to tell her. For now, though, she was content to watch over her as she slept. When she heard a knock on her door she got up to open it, finding Garcia there. She stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind her so they wouldn't disturb Emily.

"What's up, Garcia?"

The tech goddess raised an eyebrow at her, and JJ blushed faintly, feeling strangely like a kid who had gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. It wasn't like she'd done anything wrong, though.

"How is she?"

The question was surprisingly sincere, and JJ reminded herself that Emily was her friend to, for all that they weren't as close. She shrugged, looking over her shoulder as if she could see through the door and into the dark profiler's mind. She didn't want to betray her confidence, but Garcia was her best friend, and she wanted her support and advice. She compromised, finding something she could tell her friend without breaking Emily's trust.

"She's tired. Family, you know? Her mother pulled something and she ended up here all night. I found her passed out at her desk, and figured she could use some sleep."

"Looks like it," the analyst agreed readily, "I just came by to check up on you. We haven't been able to chat much lately and I've missed you!"

JJ chuckled, knowing it was true, and that she'd missed her colorful best friend as well. She needed to spend some serious time with her. As if reading her mind, Garcia grinned.

"So, you want to go out for drinks after work? You know, catch up? We've all been so busy lately, and it seems like we could all use some time to unwind."

"That sounds like a great idea, Garcia," she replied immediately, liking the idea of the whole team going out together. The last time they had all been out as a group had been the aborted Super Bowl party, which had not exactly ended well. She knew Morgan and Reid would go, though she wasn't so sure about Hotch, but Gideon never seemed to join them for any outings. Despite how strict and stiff Hotch could be, she'd enjoyed having him there for the Super Bowl party. He'd seemed so much happier and more relaxed with his wife there, and she'd liked Haley.

"You invite Morgan and Reid, and I'll ask Emily and Hotch, okay? And try Gideon. I know he always says no, but it's still worth a shot."

Garcia nodded, rushing off to track down their teammates, who had only come in an hour ago. She checked on the dark-haired agent again, who was still sleeping, and went to Hotch's office, knocking a touch uncertainly on his door. He looked up from the paperwork he was doing, waving her in.

"I'm guessing you're not here about a new case," he remarked, seeing her empty hands, "So what do you need?"

When she had first joined the team she had been put off by Hotch's demeanor and apparent lack of a sense of humor, but she knew he had one. He just hid it well. He joked with Reid about his "physics magic" rockets, occasionally teased Morgan, went along with some of Garcia's jokes, though not all of them, and he'd been known to joke with her a little. She liked the man, though it had taken a while, and she definitely respected him. He had saved them all more than once.

"Garcia is planning an outing after work," she started quietly, feeling, as she always did, just a little nervous around him, "And I was wondering if you and Haley would join us."

He sat back in his chair, and for the first time she could see the weariness in his face, echoes of the exhaustion shared by the entire team. Now she hoped he'd agree even more. He needed to unwind at least as much as they did, after all.

"Let me call Haley," he stated finally, "and I'll let you or Garcia know."

She nodded, turning to leave.

"And JJ," he called, waiting for her to turn back to him, "You're doing the right thing with Prentiss. And you can tell her from me that she has permission to go home and get some rest. I doubt she'll take it, but it's worth a try. If she does agree, take her home. She's in no shape to drive."

The liaison was a little startled, but she nodded, stepping out of his office. As she went back to her own, JJ smiled. Sometimes Hotch seemed to know everything that went on within the team. It made a certain amount of sense, after all. He was the Unit Chief for a reason.

"What'd he say?" Garcia called from Reid's desk, where she was harassing him to tell her how he made his little rockets work. She grinned, remembering watching one fly and smack Emily in the forehead. She knew her friend had touched the genius by being interested even after being hit with the rocket. She walked over to them, smiling a greeting at the two guys.

"He said he'd call Haley and tell one of us what she says."

They nodded, and as she walked back to her office she heard Garcia talk Reid into demonstrating the rocket trick for Morgan, who chafed at having to turn around just as Emily had. She heard the starts and turned, only to feel plastic impacting her head. She blinked, understanding her friend's reaction all those months ago. It had stung a little, but mostly it was just the surprise of it. Reid started to apologize, but she shook her head, laughing softly.

"I think you aim those things, Spence," she teased, "Just remember, what goes up, must come down. Physics, right?"

Before he could react, she'd swept up the little canister and chucked it across the room, chuckling as it impacted the top of his head and retreating to her office. She hadn't been sure her aim was still good, but she'd been an athlete too long for it to degrade apparently. Granted she'd been more into soccer than anything else, but she'd been known to throw things around from time to time, and not always related to sports.

"Ugh... JJ?" Emily groaned as she closed the door. She felt guilty for a second, then realized that her friend had probably been woken more by the laughter from the bullpen than by the door.

"Yeah, I'm here," she answered, hurrying over. Brown eyes assessed her, then their owner frowned slightly, brushing her forehead with her fingertips.

"You look like you just got hit with one of Reid's little rockets," the brunette muttered, and JJ laughed, pleased she remembered. That would make Reid happy, she knew, and that was important to the dark woman.

"I did," she explained with a grin, "then I hit him in the head with it, so we're even. I just hope he realizes that. He is a genius, after all. His revenge could be totally unpredictable and crazy."

Emily laughed, her face a lot more relaxed than it had been earlier. Her gaze seemed clearer too, and she was rather relieved. She'd been worried, but now she knew all her companion really needed was some good R&R.

"Garcia is getting everyone together to go out tonight. Do you think you'd be up to joining us?"

The profiler hesitated just long enough to make her wonder if she was going to refuse, but when she smiled and nodded JJ let out a sigh of relief, lightly squeezing her friend's forearm. She hadn't known until right then how much she wanted Emily to come along, but she was, so all was well.

"Hotch also wanted me to let you know you have his permission to go home," she added, but as she'd expected the older agent refused, getting up to go to the restroom to change. When she returned she looked much better. She'd washed her face and brushed her hair, changing into a dark red button-down shirt and dark gray slacks with a matching coat. Her black leather belt was off-center, JJ noticed, the silver buckle just a little out of position, but it didn't look messy. Had she been a guy, she might have called it sexy. As it was, she decided it suited her.

"You look great," she observed aloud, charmed by Emily's shy smile at the compliment, "not at all like you spent the night getting a kink the size of Texas in your neck."

The brunette laughed, shrugging slightly.

"That is what I was going for," she replied, her voice distinctly amused, then she sobered a bit as she added, "I want to thank you for... well, everything."

"No thanks needed, Emily," JJ answered firmly, "That's what friends do for each other."

The dark agent laughed, brushing her hand down her arm before picking up her bag and slipping out, heading for her desk. JJ watched her go, laughing when she ducked out of the path of another rocket. Emily Prentiss was, if nothing else, a fast learner.

"Are you sure you don't aim those things?" she heard her ask before she closed her door, settling down to work still wearing a warm smile. JJ noticed immediately that her earlier feeling of focus had faded somewhat with Emily's absence, proving that her friend really was the cause of her clear-headedness in the face of the horrible crimes that crossed her desk. She lost all track of time, falling into a rhythm of surveying each potential case and marking each as a definite no or a maybe. When she finally got through the initial pile, she went over each maybe, separating them again into those she'd consider and those that could be handled by local FBI or with the aid of a faxed profile. It took a toll on her, as it always did, but every once in a while she'd glance up and swear she saw Emily Prentiss asleep on her couch. The image made her smile, and made it easier to keep going. When Garcia came to collect her for the evening out, she was surprised, but more than ready to leave. She grabbed her purse, locked up her office, and joined her friends, finding Haley and Hotch waiting for them.

"I'm so glad you could come," Emily declared, smiling warmly at the other woman. Haley smiled back, and JJ remembered that she'd been very nice to Emily at the Super Bowl gathering, which she was grateful for. As they headed out toward the cars, Emily appeared at her side. Her hand touched the small of her back for just a moment as she got into the car while her friend held the door open, and she grinned. She was going to make the most of the night, and if it didn't end with Emily Prentiss relaxed and happy, she would be very surprised. She was a woman on a mission, and she had every intention of fulfilling it, whether or not Emily went along with or even knew about it. The Ambassador may have had plans for her daughter and been determined to carry them out, but she had nothing against the Jareau stubborn streak.


	6. Realization

**_Realization_ : **An act of becoming fully aware of something as a fact

**Date and Time: February 26, 2008, 03:58**

**Location: Emily Prentiss' Condo, Outskirts of Washington, DC**

Emily jerked awake, startled out a somewhat sound sleep, but she wasn't sure why or how. She looked around, getting her bearings and trying to locate JJ. The blonde was curled up against her side, whimpering faintly. She sighed inwardly, realizing that the sound must have been what woke her up, and she glanced over at the clock, cursing the time.

"Shh, Jennifer," she whispered softly, stroking her friend's hair, "I've got you. I'm here."

The blonde nuzzled against her neck, falling into a deeper, more peaceful sleep. Emily forced her body to relax, not wanting her sensitive companion to wake up. The poor woman had only just gotten to sleep about two hours ago, after spending the whole night looking after her. She'd had some flashbacks that had sent her into a panic, and only Jennifer's gentle presence had kept her from losing herself in them. It was no wonder she was having nightmares now.

"Emily," the liaison murmured sleepily, apparently slipping into more pleasant dreams, or at least less frightening ones, "they won't stop dancing. Make them stop dancing. They're making me dizzy."

"Yes, sweetheart," she replied quietly, trying to keep from laughing, "I'll make them stop."

"Okay..."

JJ settled against her with a happy little sigh, and the brunette smiled affectionately as she watched her. She had never known her friend to talk in her sleep when they'd shared hotel rooms while they traveled for cases, but now she did so fairly regularly, although she'd found that she would quiet down if Emily answered any comment directed at her. She had a good idea what this particular dream was about, and she sometimes wished she could watch it as it appeared in JJ's mind. After all, Gideon, Rossi, and Hotch all doing the Macarena while Strauss gave them the beat and a gaggle of reporters and FBI agents stared obliviously ahead had to be hysterically funny. JJ's mind seemed to have gotten used to it, though. Apparently it was a recurring dream.

"What am I going to do with you?" she whispered, her eyes running over the younger woman's face. Since realizing she was in love with Jennifer about a week ago she'd carried out a subtle campaign of attentions, and while there were times her friend seemed to be responding to some of her flirting, she had no definite answer. It was possible she was interested, but it was also possible they were just very close friends.

"You can do anything you want," that familiar voice retorted suddenly, one eye opening slightly, "just as long as it doesn't involve getting out of bed."

That said, Jennifer promptly fell back to sleep, nuzzling against her neck. Emily sighed. It was moments like this that she wondered the most, moments when JJ was at her most open and unguarded and seemed to be responding to her, but it was ambiguous. She could just want to sleep longer, and she couldn't blame her. It wasn't as if they had anything to do anyway, and the weather outside was cold, dark, windy, and wet, so there would be no going out. Not that anyone would be mad enough to go out at this hour anyway.

"You'd have to be completely nuts to want to be awake at this hour," she mumbled to herself, her thoughts turning from the weather to Jennifer, where they stayed. Sometimes she wished she were brave enough to just tell the other woman how she felt and see what happened. In her more daring and frustrated moments she thought of just grabbing the woman, pinning her to the nearest flat surface and kissing her senseless, but that wasn't going to happen either. Instead she was stuck in this limbo, not knowing one way or another and unsure of what to do either way. Knowing this train of thought would just frustrate her, she leaned over a little and picked up her iPod and headphones. She had loaded the CD Reid had given her onto it, and now she intended to actually listen to it. She liked and appreciated the Coltrane and the classics Reid had included, then got to a song called Broken, performed by Lifehouse according to Reid's notes. The music caught her attention immediately, then the opening verse had her riveted and she sat completely still as the song played.

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight  Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time  I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts  I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  With a broken heart that's still beating  In the pain there is healing  In your name I find meaning  So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  I'm barely holdin' on to you

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head  I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead  I still see your reflection inside of my eyes  That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

(Chorus)

I'm hangin' on another day  Just to see what you will throw my way  And I'm hanging on to the words you say  You said that I will, I'll be ok

The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone  I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home

(Chorus)

Emily stared at the little device in her hand, pausing it before it could go on to the next song. She needed some time to absorb Broken. It wasn't a genre she listened to especially often, but she liked it well enough. This song, though, summed up so much of what she had been thinking and feeling during those six days of torture, and fairly often since. She had held on to Jennifer, to the memory of the other woman's touch, voice, and eyes, wanting nothing more than to see her again. In her dreams she had come, promising that she would find her and make the pain stop, and she had. Even before that, though, Jennifer had always been there for her, and on her bad days she'd gone to work because the blonde was there and if she cared about nothing else, she wanted to see what the day would bring for her friend.

"How did Reid know?" she whispered, shaking her head slightly. Reid was a genius, but his social skills were somewhat lacking. He had understood her feelings, though, for all that they weren't especially close. Then she figured it out. That was what he had felt after being kidnapped and tortured, then trying to deal with all of it alone. It seemed that he didn't want her to think she was in this alone, which at times she had, even with Jennifer at her side. Bracing herself, she pressed the play button, listening closely to the next song. It was becoming very clear to her that the young prodigy had put a lot of thought into the music he selected, and the best thing she could to do to thank him would be to get the message he was trying to send her. Over and over she heard the same theme underlying it all: you aren't alone, and you shouldn't force yourself to be when you have people who love you.

"I know," she murmured to the absent young man, "I get it now."

She looked down at the blonde limpet attached to her side, smiling sadly. A few days ago, Hotch had told her he thought she should trust her instincts when it came to her emotions and Jennifer, but it was hard to do when she was so torn. She didn't know where instinct ended and outright terror began sometimes these days. The FBI shrink she'd seen yesterday had been impressed by her stability, and had been very encouraging about her ability to return to work, while her outside therapist had told her she was healing, but to be patient with herself. He'd explained that she needed to be careful about fear, especially when it came to acting on fears. He'd told her to trust her instincts too, but had added that she needed to listen to herself very carefully before acting or speaking when she was scared. She understood that all too well now. So she watched her friend in silence, thinking about fear in all the forms she'd experienced it in lately.

"Mmm... Emily?"

The familiar voice startled her, and she looked down at her friend, surprised to see her awake. When she glanced at the clock, she was even more surprised to realize she'd been lost in thought and staring into space for over three hours. That didn't seem possible, but then again she knew she had a lot to think through. All of that became irrelevant, however, now that Jennifer had woken up.

"Hey. How'd you sleep?" she asked quietly, not wanting to wake her companion up more if she wasn't really awake. The blonde smiled a little, but her blue eyes were fixed on her face, shadowed with concern.

"Very well," Jennifer answered, her voice still a little rough from sleep, "but you look like you haven't slept at all. You didn't have any more nightmares, did you?"

"No, nothing like that. I was just thinking about my last therapy session. You remember me telling you about what Dr. Adoni said last time?"

"Yeah, of course I do," JJ replied immediately, and Emily grinned. Of course she remembered. JJ hadn't forgotten a word related to her treatment, care, or other needs. She had a good memory anyway, but she verged on obsessive when it came to her health, of all sorts. She had never wanted a roommate, or a caretaker, but somehow the blonde managed to be both without crowding or annoying her. In fact, she'd caught herself wishing more than once that this could be permanent, but Jennifer had her own home to go back to, and eventually she would.

"Emily?"

The brunette blinked, realizing she'd been lost in thought too long and worried the younger woman. She smiled reassuringly, hugging her friend to her as she thought about what she was going to say, and what she shouldn't. She settled on most of the truth, realizing that the shrink had been right. She couldn't let her fear alter too much of what she did and said with Jennifer. She just had to keep reminding herself that being in love with the woman was not a new thing, and if she behaved differently because of it she was being, essentially, dishonest and even silly. That didn't exactly make it easy though. It was damn hard. But it was, as the doctor had told her, the right thing to do. The only thing to do, really.

"I was talking about Dr. Adoni, right?" she asked, waiting for Jennifer to nod before going on, "You know what he said about fear. Well, I'm not used to being scared like this. I'm not used to looking at something and seeing what isn't there. I've never hallucinated, never had visions or flashbacks like I do now. I have never experienced pain like this, like I did then."

She sighed, fixing her companion with an intense stare.

"And I have never needed someone as badly as I need you. I hate that I can't do this alone, Jennifer, but God am I glad I have you here with me."

"That's what you were thinking about?" the liaison asked after a few minutes of silent contemplation. She nodded, waiting for her friend to say or do something in response. JJ was quiet for a long time, then finally she grinned, rolling over so she was straddling the older woman's waist, looking down at her with a decidedly smug expression, though there was just a hint of doubt and worry underneath that. Emily gazed up at her, pointedly ignoring her body's more visceral response.

"Jennifer?"

"So," the blonde went on, acting as if she hadn't spoken, "does all that translate to you giving in and asking me to move in with you on a permanent basis? Become your roommate officially?"

She froze, hearing the echo of her own thoughts in the only slightly joking comment. She wanted to say yes, and badly, but she couldn't. Not if JJ didn't know the truth about how she felt, because as desperately as she wanted to act as if everything was the same, it wasn't, because she wasn't, and she couldn't deny that. Or maybe she was the same, but her awareness had altered. Either way, it was more or less the same result. Emily was tired of denial, tired of hiding, and she needed it to stop. But always there was the fear, the terror that wouldn't go away, and that was what was stopping her from telling the truth. She started to say something, then froze, hearing something through her earphones that caught her attention.

But now, a smile and a touch of your hand,  Just makes me come unglued.  Such a contradiction, do I lie or tell the truth.  Is it fact or fiction,  Oh the way I feel for you.

"Emily? Em, what's wrong?"

The profiler looked up, seeing how worried her friend was getting again. She shook her head, wordlessly handing over the iPod and earphones. JJ shifted to one side, and she took the opportunity to get up, slipping out of the room. She could feel eyes staring after her, but she didn't turn. She limped down the stairs, needing to put some distance between herself and what she'd just done. It was possible Jennifer wouldn't figure it out, but she seriously doubted it. The woman was brilliant, and it wasn't as if the message could easily be misunderstood.

"Damn it..." she murmured softly, flopping down onto the couch. She found the remote for her stereo and flipped it on, finding the song she'd left her friend with and playing it, mouthing the lyrics along with the singer, Carolyn Dawn Johnson.

I'm so scared that the way that I feel,  Is written all over my face.  When you walk into the room,  I wanna find a hiding place.  We used to laugh, we used to hug,  The way that old friends do.  But now, a smile and a touch of your hand,  Just makes me come unglued.  Such a contradiction, do I lie or tell the truth.  Is it fact or fiction,  Oh the way I feel for you.

So complicated, I'm so frustrated.  I wanna hold you close, I wanna push you away,  I wanna make you go, I wanna make you stay.  Should I say it? Should I tell you how I feel?  Oh, I want you to know.  But then again, I don't. It's so complicated.

Oh... just when I think I'm under control.  I think I finally got a grip.  Another friend tells me that,  My name is always on your lips.  They say I'm more than just a friend,  they say I must be blind.  Well, I admit that I've seen you watch me  from the corner of your eye.  Oh, It's so confusing. I wish you'd just confess.  But think of what I'd be losing,

if your answer wasn't yes.

(Chorus)

Oh, I hate it. 'Cuz I've waited.  So long for someone like you  Oh, what do I do.  Oh should I say it.  Should I tell you how I feel.  I want you to know, but then again I don't.  It's so complicated...  It's so complicated...  It's so complicated.  Ohh...

When the song finished she turned off the stereo, getting up to look out at the dawn rising over Washington D.C. This was not how she'd wanted this to go. She hadn't planned out how she'd explain this to Jennifer, but this was not it.

"Damn," Emily repeated, crossing her arms over her chest against the cold. It wasn't so much that she thought this would be the end of their friendship or anything like that. She knew JJ too well to think that. The problem, once again, was fear. The thought immediately made her angry, and she turned on her heel, pacing the room. She had never been one to let fear control her. If she had, she wouldn't be a profiler or an FBI agent. She never would have left home or fought against her mother... so why was she letting it control her now? She swore softly, knowing the answer. It all went back to Samis.

"You son of a bitch," she whispered, slamming her hand against a convenient wall. Before she could do it again, though, a hand caught her wrist while an arm wrapped around her waist.

"Emily, enough. Stop punishing yourself for what happened to you."

All the tension that had been building up in her body suddenly fell away, and she turned, sagging limply against the wall, running her free hand through her hair.

"JJ..."

"Jennifer, Emily," the liaison corrected firmly, shaking her head, "I get you not telling me. The song made that perfectly clear. But I do want to know how long."

"How long?" the brunette repeated tiredly, "If you're asking how long I've know, I figured it out last week. How long have I been in love with you? I have no idea."

Jennifer nodded slowly, sliding her hand from Emily's wrist to clasp the longer one. Her blue eyes were understanding and warm, far more so than the brunette had expected.

"Emily, if you've been in love with me all along, I don't see a problem. You're obviously not going to jump me or be inappropriate, and even if you did, if I told you to stop you would."

The profiler tried to say something, but the younger agent shook her head, cutting her off.

"I know we have things to talk about, Em. I'm not so naive as to think this won't affect our relationship. It already has. You've been acting different with me lately, and I assume it's because you figured out how you felt. But there's only one issue that's relevant right now."

"And what is that?" Emily asked, too drained to argue the point. When her friend suddenly smiled, just as she had before, she realized she knew what was coming, and she was torn between laughing and crying.

"When are you going to ask me to move in?"

The question was asked in a teasing tone, but JJ suddenly sobered, brushing a few strands of dark hair out of her eyes.

"Because I'll tell you right now, Emily Prentiss, I don't want to go back to my place without you. It wouldn't be home. And I know you're going to tell me all about how I shouldn't sacrifice my place for your sake, but it's not just for you. I don't think I can sleep without knowing you're close by," she explained softly, earnestly, "Emily, I love you. I don't know about romantic love, being in love, any of that. None of that is as important to me as the fact that I love you, and I have to know you're safe. I have to know that if I have a nightmare, I can wake up and find you, and you'll be there to hold me. I need to know that if you start having flashbacks or nightmares you won't be screaming alone in your head. I have to know there's someone to cook for, someone who'll read me excerpts from hundred-year-old romance novels and laugh along with me after a bad day, or that same someone will be there for me to hold so I can make sure the bad day isn't any worse than it has to be for her."

Emily searched that familiar gaze, looking for any hint of doubt or fear. There was none. It was JJ being herself, and she found herself wondering how she had possibly missed the fact that she'd fallen in love with her best friend. She leaned against the hand on her face, sighing softly. She'd been so obnoxiously blind, and now...

"We need to go shopping," she stated quietly, cutting off her own train of thought and smiling a little when JJ jumped at the sudden comment, adding, "I won't let you give up your house, Jennifer. It's a beautiful place. The only reason I wouldn't stay at your home was because I didn't want to intrude on your space, and I wasn't ready to be anywhere but my home yet. But if you're serious about this, we're going to do it right."

"Em-"

"I won't argue with you about it," she interrupted gently, smiling to take the sting out of it, "since I know you wouldn't have suggested it if you weren't ready and willing. And you're right. I was just thinking about how much I wished we could make this whole roommate thing permanent."

"So why..."

"Give up my condo?" she asked, and when JJ nodded she explained.

"I love your house, and I know you spent a long time making it a home. Garcia told me about some of it, and I've seen the before and after pictures. This condo, it's great, and I spent a while painting and refurnishing it, but it's not like I couldn't part with it. You put two years of blood, sweat, and tears into making that house what it is now. I will not let you toss that away for this place, or me."

The blonde blushed, and Emily grinned, glad she had finally gotten to use that little tidbit of information. Not many people knew about the renovation, even the BAU. Garcia had, of course, and the tech goddess had told her after a little prodding.

"I'd give anything for you, Emily," the liaison whispered once she'd gotten over her surprise, stepping forward to embrace her, in the process taking some of Emily's weight off her progressively weaker legs, "I realized that after you were taken. I thought... I thought I'd lost you, and..."

The older woman hugged her tightly, stroking her hair and back. For a fleeting moment she was worried that Jennifer would take the gesture the wrong way, but she shook it off when her companion leaned into her, just as she always did. That was when she stopped thinking and just held on until the wave passed, then she lead JJ over to the island, sitting her down while she went around and started pulling food out of the fridge and a couple pans out of the cupboard, starting to make breakfast. One thing she'd learned about her friend was that when she was upset and hungry at the same time it was much harder for her to calm down. That was totally understandable as far as she was concerned, so she made her an omelet and hash browns, refusing to hear any objections. It was hard to be on her feet so long, and by the time she finished she was barely able to slide the plates across the island, but it was worth it to see her best friend digging in with a will.

"Sit down before you fall down," the blonde commanded between bites. She smiled, meaning to do exactly that, but she lost her balance, barely managing to catch herself before she hit the floor. She felt something odd, but it didn't process until JJ screamed her name seconds later, and she turned her head as the woman half-tackled her. Only then did she realize she'd put her hand down on the range.

"Shit! Emily!"

Her hand was promptly dragged under cold water from the tap, numbing the pain she'd only just started to feel. That's when she remembered the nerve damage done to her hands and the warning Dr. Kelso had given her about hot or cold surfaces. She wouldn't always feel things right away, he'd said, and she should try to avoid situations like that. It was too late now, though.

"It's okay, Jennifer," she reassured softly, a little surprised by the intensity of the terror in those blue eyes, "It's just a minor burn."

"Minor burn?" the younger woman growled, shaking her head violently, "We need to get you to a hospital and have this looked at. God, I'm so stupid. I should have made breakfast. I-"

"Stop!" Emily commanded firmly, gripping the other agent's shoulder with her good hand and shaking her a few times, quickly figuring out what this was really about, "Jennifer, stop it! This isn't your fault! None of it was your fault!"

The blonde gaped at her for a moment, then sighed, relaxing a little bit.

"Oh, God... Thank you for that," she murmured, "I think I was having a miniature flashback. I'm okay now. Let's take a look at your hand, okay?"

The profiler nodded, accepting that for the time being and holding out the limb in question. The press liaison carefully dried it, getting down the burn kit Emily had told the younger woman about a few days ago when a pan had slipped and burned her fingers. She slathered the palm with antibacterial burn cream and put a light dressing on it, more to keep the cream from getting everywhere than anything else. The brunette was reassured by the calm steadiness of the other agent, glad to see a reemergence of the Jennifer she knew so well. She hated the rare moments when her friend would crack and show the echoes of the panic she must have gone through after she been kidnapped.

"You're right, it's a minor burn," JJ finally declared, "but I'd feel better if you got it checked out."

Emily just looked at her, and Jennifer chuckled, surprising her companion by leaning up to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

"If you're looking for ways to seduce me, Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, which I just realized you've been doing quite a job of doing this last week," she remarked as she pulled back, her eyes sparkling with restrained laughter and emotion, "I don't recommend getting hurt as a way to do it. Just so you know. Stick with chocolate, flowers, wine, and those sweet things you're so good at thinking of."

The dark woman stared for a long moment, then cracked up, hugging her friend tightly. She could have kissed her in that moment, not just because she wanted to anyway but because she'd broken the tension that had started to form around them and in just a couple of sentences all but proved that she was okay with their relationship as it stood, and even hinted that maybe, just maybe, it was possible there could be more. What more could she ask for?

"Okay," JJ started once their laughter had died down a bit, "you need to eat, then we're going to plan out what we're going to need to do to and buy to move you into my place once you've recovered a bit more."

She smiled, letting her friend sit her down and watching as she finished making the second omelet. Jennifer, of course, made sure she ate every bite and a glass of juice before she'd sit down so they could have any of the various serious conversations they needed to. Once the dishes were rinsed the blonde came around the island and sat down at her side, checking over her hand again. Emily sighed, closing her eyes. There was too much hanging between them. She just wanted to resolve it, but didn't know how. This wasn't exactly something she'd had to do before.

"JJ..."

"Stop right there," the liaison ordered, her eyes blazing with intense blue fire, "Let's make one thing very clear. You've been calling me Jennifer since we found you over two weeks ago. Now, it's fine with me if you call me JJ with our friends, but when we're alone, you call me by my name."

The brunette might have said something, but the younger woman shook her head, lightly brushing her arm to keep her quiet.

"Look..." she started again, her face softening and her expression becoming almost sad, "I told you before, Emily, I've never really liked my name, but when you say it... it's different. I don't know... maybe it's because you're in love with me. Maybe it's because I love you as much as I do. Maybe it's just because you're you, and everything seems a little different around you, a little better. I don't really care. All I know is that when you say my name, I feel like I've found a part of me that I thought was gone, that I never knew was missing. So please, Emily..."

Emily squeezed the hand holding hers, realizing how important this was to her friend, and to her. It sounded strange that a name would be such a big deal, but Jennifer was right. It made a difference to them both. It was something of a symbol of what had changed between them, because a lot had. It was Jennifer, not JJ, who had saved her life and took care of her, and it was Jennifer who continued to give her back the life that could have been stripped from her. It was Jennifer she'd fallen in love with.

"You're right, of course. I'm sorry, Jennifer."

The blonde accepted that, gently pulling away to gather their purses, cell phones, jackets, and guns. This would be their first outing since before the last case, and obviously they'd be taking no chances. As they walked out the door, Emily smirked to herself, just as JJ looked back. The younger woman threw her a questioning look, to which she responded with an enigmatic smile, surprising Jennifer by not saying a word when she opened the door to the passenger seat for her, sliding in without any objections. She didn't want to drive today. She just wanted to watch the blonde and think. The ride was quiet, and that didn't surprise her in the least. They both had a lot to process. At JJ's home they took a look at the guest room, but the liaison didn't make a list or anything like that. Instead she sat down on the bed, gesturing for Emily to take the chair. Her face was contemplative, but there was something else there, a shadow that had been growing around her during the drive.

"Jennifer?" she asked, wondering what was going on. The blonde was quiet for a while, then looked up at her, her blue eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. That was a little scary for Emily, since it was unusual for her to have so little clue what her friend was thinking.

"How did you figure out you were in love with me, Emily?"

The tone of the abrupt, blunt question matched the expression, and the brunette frowned worriedly, wondering how they had gone from teasing one another to serious discussion so quickly, and how she seemed to have completely lost track of what was going on. Whatever it was, they clearly weren't going to talk about moving plans until this was settled.

"Well..." she started, thinking through the question and realizing they might as well get this out of the way now, "It started with Dr. Cameron, I suppose. She asked if we were together, and if I would tell her if we were. Which I would, of course. But we weren't... aren't... and have never been. Then my shrink started asking questions, and Hotch... he didn't say much, just that I needed to trust my instincts."

"Until now, until this, you've always been attracted to men though, right? You always considered yourself straight?"

Now Emily was starting to go beyond worried to genuinely scared, but she decided that answering the questions was the only way to deal with this. Whatever was bothering JJ so badly would come out in its own time, and she had to trust that they could, and would, get through this and move beyond wherever this conversation was going.

"I did, yes."

"And if your parents, your family, were to find out, how would they react?"

"They'd be extremely upset to say the least," she answered quietly, the question one she'd considered on her own before this, so it wasn't exactly new to her. She was just surprised to hear it brought up here of all places, and from this woman.

"And you're okay with that?"

Emily looked down at her hands, willing them to be still. She wasn't prepared for this, but prepared or not, they were having this talk, and she would be honest. She had told herself earlier that she was done hiding, and now she had to stick to that. She just hoped Jennifer wasn't going to shut her out too much longer. She didn't know if she could live with that, and it was just too different from how things were not long before.

"Of course not, Jennifer," she replied, her voice cracking slightly despite her efforts to hold herself steady, "but if I were to decide what to do with my life based on what they liked, I'd never have done anything I wanted to do. The FBI, the BAU... none of it. I learned a long time ago that to be happy, or at least content, with myself, I might have to give up my family. It's like Abraham Maslow, the one with the theory of the hierarchy of needs, said. 'A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be.' When I read that quote back in school, I decided to live by it, and I think I have. I'm a profiler, I'm a nerd... and I'm in love with you. Those are just facts of my life, outside of any labels or control."

When JJ didn't say anything she decided to go on, wishing, almost praying, that something would break through the wall her friend had put up.

"I don't think of myself as a lesbian or a heterosexual... and I don't really care. In our line of work, as Dr. Cameron helped me realize, we don't have the luxury of thinking like other people, in black and white terms. We label people every single day, but we know that those labels could change, and that they aren't all-encompassing. We accept that, difficult though it may be. And love above anything else is so precious, and so rare, that sticking it in a neat compartment with a little label is impossible, and all but criminal. I won't do it. I can't. Not for my family, not for the team... not even for you, though God knows I've tried."

She looked straight into those dull blue eyes, searching for understanding, compassion, even something as simple as some acknowledgment of what she was saying. She couldn't seem to find any. They were closed to her, impossible to read, giving her no choice but to plunge on.

"If this is going to make you uncomfortable, I'll leave, Jennifer," she murmured, hating every word that was coming out of her mouth now but feeling that they were what was left to be said, "I just... couldn't find a way to hide it. Once I knew, everything I did and said felt a little more like a lie. I've been denying this for I don't know how long, and if I learned anything from being tortured and nearly killed, it's that I'm sick of hiding and denial. My mother and family will never accept me, and that hurts. I tried so damn hard, Jennifer... but I'm done. As Reid once said, I yield, submit, surrender, capitulate... I give up. I can't be someone else, whoever it is they want me to be. So just tell me now if you want me to go and I will, because I don't think I can stop loving you and I won't try. Somehow you became a part of me, something I can't replace."

For long, terrifying minutes there was silence, and the brunette could feel the rapid pounding of her heart becoming more constricted and painful. This wasn't how she'd hoped Jennifer would find out all of this, everything she'd been thinking, planning and processing for more than a week, but it was far too late to take it all back now. Unable to hold that nearly empty gaze any longer she bowed her head, closing her eyes in defeat.

"Don't ever change, Emily."

The words came so suddenly and in such a quiet voice that at first she doubted she'd heard them, but when she looked up the life was back in blue eyes, lighting them from within. JJ's expression was intensely focused, determined even, and Emily found herself trapped completely by that look.

"W-what?" the older agent stammered, once again extremely confused about what had happened, but Jennifer didn't leave her hanging for long, thankfully.

"I love you the way you are," the liaison explained calmly, though her voice was threaded with steel, "and because you're more true to who you decide to be than anyone I've ever known. No one else would have been that honest about all of that. No one else I've known would be willing to give up everything to stay true to who they are. You would, and have. But I look at you, and I see everything you gained, Emily. You've told me that you're a disappointment to your family, but I don't know how anyone could be disappointed in you. And you're certainly not one to the family you've been adopted by. Every single member of the BAU can, will, and has fought for you. And I..."

She trailed off, then shook her head, fixing the brunette with that intense stare again.

"It would kill me if you left, Emily, but I wouldn't stop you if you thought you had to go. But let me make this very clear: right here, right now, I can't imagine ever asking you to go. I'm asking you to stay. Stay with the BAU, if you can, stay in the FBI, and stay in this house with me."

JJ stood up, holding out a hand, which Emily took on instinct, letting herself be pulled to her feet and guided down the hall to a somewhat familiar room. It took her a moment to recognize it, but when she did she turned back to the other woman, disoriented and shaken.

"I'm asking you to stay here," the blonde finished, carefully enunciating the last word. The brunette stumbled, completely taken off guard after the way the conversation had been going just moments ago. JJ caught her arm, drawing her into a warm, strong hug. She shivered faintly, trying to catch her breath and her balance, and not really succeeding at either. It had never occurred to her that the other agent would go so far so quickly, but she had to admit she wasn't sure she could sleep without those arms holding her, without the safety of another person, of Jennifer, so close. She just wished it didn't make her feel so incredibly selfish.

"Jennifer... I can't ask you to-"

"You're not asking," the liaison interrupted gently, "I am. We've been sleeping together since we found you. I've never been one to share my bed, Em, but I think I'm addicted to sleeping with you."

As the implications of what the younger woman had said sunk in both agents blushed, staring at each other before breaking down and laughing so hard they both lost their balance, leaving them flopped gracelessly on the floor, crying and laughing all at once. When the phone rang JJ staggered over to it, still giggling,

"Agent Jareau."

Emily watched her friend's expression alter a little, becoming a bit embarrassed.

"Oh... sorry Garcia. No, we came over to my place to check things out. I want Em to move in here with me."

There was a pause, then JJ turned deep red, glancing over at her then looking away.

"No, Penelope. You're being ridiculous. I haven't had a guy over here in... I've never invited a guy here, you know that. She's not going to 'cramp my style' at all."

Again the blonde was quiet, then she chuckled, pushing a button on her phone and setting it down, shaking her head slightly. She held out a hand, pulling the brunette to her feet and hugging her tightly.

"How's Garcia?" Emily asked, rubbing her back gently, sensing that she needed the comfort and the grounding the contact gave them both.

"She's herself," the liaison replied, giggling a little, "She said that if I'm not going to have a man in my bed, at least you're a good substitute. You won't take advantage or get me knocked up. And she's right. You'd never would."

"Well, I certainly can't knock you up," the profiler replied, chuckling quietly, "I don't really have the equipment for that."

When her friend gave her a searching look, Emily grinned, refusing to add anything about taking advantage. It was strange to flirt so openly, but it was fun too, and she was enjoying it. If she wasn't very much mistaken, so did JJ, and that was good. It was very good, in fact.

"Come on," the blonde finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen, a silence full of tension that wasn't entirely foreign to them but was strange nonetheless, "Let's figure out what you're going to need to get settled here. That is... if you're still sure you want to do this?"

Emily laughed, scooping up her purse and digging out the pad and pen she always carried, just in case of, well, any number of possible situations. The press liaison smirked at her, taking the paper out of her hand and gesturing for her to sit down on the bed, which she did gratefully, before wandering around taking notes and muttering to herself. The brunette couldn't hear what her friend was saying, but she could see JJ was off in her own little world, and she was becoming just a little afraid of what might be on that list. If Garcia had been drawing it up she would have been more concerned, but the other agent had learned some interesting and unpredictable lessons from the tech analyst and she never quite knew when something would come up that would throw her for a loop. Like this situation, for example. It was overwhelming, she decided, and while her mind was already working to actively separate the issues into their different categories, there was still one thing that troubled her, something she couldn't just categorize and set aside for later contemplation. This was too fast. Not the move, exactly, she could cope with that. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it, and apparently Jennifer had to. It was how quickly JJ had apparently come to terms with her sexuality and feelings for her. She still hadn't come to terms with those things, at least not completely, and it didn't make sense to her that the blonde could, unless one of two things were the case, and neither appealed to her.

"I'm not rationalizing," JJ remarked suddenly, and she looked up into blue eyes, wondering if she was really that transparent or if Jennifer just knew her that well.

"Jennifer?"

The blonde shook her head, moving to kneel in front of her, her expression earnest and sincere, her shoulders tense and her hands shaking just slightly.

"I'm not rationalizing or dismissing your feelings, Emily," the other agent explained, "And I'm not done processing. I don't want you to think otherwise, and I just realized my behavior may have looked like that to you. I assure you, I have more questions for you and things I need to work out for myself, but I don't think any of that is so pressing that we can't function and live. I admit I'm going to need some time and I'm sure me and my shrink, and me and you, are going to be talking about this off and on for a bit, but I already told you the most important factor here. I love you, and I don't think I can live without you. Frankly, I don't want to try."

"Jennifer, any questions you have... you should ask them," Emily interjected softly, her dark eyes a little mournful, "I don't want this to come between us any more than it has to, or any longer. I know we can't resolve everything now, but... don't let anything fester, okay?"

Jennifer looked thoughtful for a few long seconds, then finally answered, "You're right. And I do have one or two questions that maybe shouldn't wait."

"Shoot."

"Okay... here goes..." she started haltingly, her tanned skin just a little flushed for some reason, "I guess I really want to know if this means you're attracted to me... physically, and if you've ever... imagined us together. Sexually."

Emily was suddenly very grateful she hadn't been drinking or eating anything just then. As it was she snorted and choked anyway, almost falling sideways off the bed. She knew she should have expected that. Hell, she probably had, but still it felt like something impacting from the far, far left field. She blushed as she thought about it, but it had been a reasonably frank, if somewhat awkward, question, and it deserved an honest answer. Once she had gotten herself under control again she looked intently into her friend's eyes, managing to look very seriously despite an internal war going on about whether to jump the woman and kiss her senseless, run away screaming, or just break out laughing. She still wasn't sure if she'd do any, all, or none of the above, but she hoped this would end well.

"I am attracted to you physically, yes," the brunette replied, speaking slowly and carefully to maintain the outward appearance of control and calm despite her ongoing internal debate and her very mixed, very intense emotions about the few times she'd allowed herself to try out her little 'exercise' again after the first time, "And I have thought a little about us together. I try not to, out of respect for you and admittedly a certain lack of knowledge and experience. It's still pretty new to me too, after all."

"Respect for me, huh?" JJ echoed, her voice both thoughtful and vaguely teasing, "Just how far does this respect extend?"

If there was one thing Emily Prentiss could not be accused of, it was a lack of willingness to take chances. She'd been labeled reckless for a reason, after all, but she wasn't reckless. She believed firmly in planning an angle of attack and committing to it, but if she saw an opening, she would adapt her plan to it and take advantage. Now she took full advantage of that particular ability, fixing her companion with an intense, smoldering look that turned her face red almost immediately and, unless her eyes and ears were deceiving her, left Jennifer a bit breathless.

"Only as far as you want it to, Agent Jareau."

It took a visible effort for JJ to recover from, had someone simply heard the comment in passing, a simple, slightly formal reply to an important, blunt question. Had that same person stopped and looked, they would have seen a polite, if intense, expression on her face. Jennifer knew her, however, and she was both grateful and embarrassed. Still, she decided, better to put it all out there now. No use holding back when she was offered a chance like that.

"Uhhh... Good," was JJ's stammered response, then the liaison gathered herself, adding with a little smile, "I did have one other question for you."

Emily nodded, waiting and bracing herself.

"What brand of toothpaste do you prefer? I don't think I paid any attention before, and I want to have it on hand when you move in."

The profiler almost fell off the bed, this time because of laughter, and the blonde joined her readily, the tension diminishing and allowing their equilibrium to be restored. Life went on, and the ripple effect it had began to fade away, to be all but forgotten.

**Date and Time: June 2, 2007 20:23**

**Location: Club Near FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia**

Jennifer Jareau was feeling and thinking many things as she walked into the club with her date, but above all she was distracted and concerned. She hadn't had much time to talk to Emily recently, and she knew their recent cases had taken a toll on her. She blushed faintly when the man at her side gave her a concerned look that verged on irritation, giving him an apologetic smile. John was handsome, well-mannered, and charming, and he'd been as patient as she could expect with her distracted state. She couldn't help it, though. When Emily had left that night, there had been such a stricken expression on her face, the same expression the brunette had been wearing when she thought no one was looking for weeks. First it was the two hunters, then Maggie and the butcher, then Frank and Jane. She had accepted John's invitation in hopes it would help her unwind, and so far it had more or less worked. She just wished she wasn't so worried about her friend.

"JJ, are you sure you're up for this?" her darkly good-looking date asked softly, almost managing to hide his frustration. The poor man had been wonderful, but she knew his patience had to be wearing thin.

"I'm fine," she replied soothingly, giving him another smile, "Just thinking about a coworker. She's had a hard time lately."

"So have you," John pointed out with his charming, almost silly smile that oddly enough reminded her of someone, though she couldn't think who, "Come on. Let's have a drink and dance, take your mind of it. I'm sure your coworker will be fine."

JJ nodded, following him into the nearly packed club, her senses adjusting to the press of moving, shifting bodies, sounds, sights, and smells with relative ease. True to his word, John bought them both a beer, guiding her over to a table he'd just barely managed to snag when another couple had vacated it. She made a conscious effort to relax and enjoy herself, and slowly the tension started to fade from her. John was good company, keeping her laughing and talking mostly freely, although she conscientiously avoided shoptalk. When they got up to dance she was more than ready. She loved dancing and the release it gave, and her date was a reasonably good dancer along with everything else. Just as she was finding her rhythm, though, she happened to glance up and saw a face she'd recognize anywhere. For a moment she almost turned away, but then she saw the expression on that face and all thoughts of walking, or dancing, away vanished.

"JJ?" John asked, and she cringed mentally, regretting what she was about to do, though not enough to change her mind.

"I'm so sorry, John. My friend is here and I..."

"Need to go deal with it," he interrupted, nodding and running a hand through his thick black hair, visibly frustrated, "Go, JJ. I'm just going to head home."

She tried to apologize, but he was already gone, making his way through the crowd of dancers and drunks toward the exit. JJ sighed, apologetic, but she had her priorities. She fought her way through the crowd in the opposite direction, heading for the tables. Her target was staring down into a glass, apparently lost in contemplation. Before she could get in earshot to call out, though, the person left, slipping into the mob and appearing again at the bar, probably to pay the bill, then again at the exit. The liaison growled inwardly but still doggedly made her way to the door, determined to see this through.

"Emily!" she called, hoping to grab her friend's attention. The brunette didn't seem to hear her, which made sense considering the noise and distance between them. She tried calling the other woman's cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrated but unwilling to give up, she ran to her truck, managing to track down the older woman's car thanks to the relatively light traffic in the area. Apparently everyone was in the club. She lost track of the car a couple times, but she let it go when she realized where she was going. The liaison slowed down, a natural enough thing to do in a pickup truck, letting Emily's dark car get ahead of her. When she pulled into the parking lot, she stayed seated for a few minutes, letting her eyes getting adjusted to the dark before going out. After walking for a few minutes she found Emily's car and looked around, barely making out a set of footprints.

"Em... what are you doing here?"

Here was a small, secluded beach not far from DC, the kind of place you only went to if you had been there before. It was a place one went to think, to get away, and at worst, to end things. She was sure Emily wasn't about to kill herself, but she was concerned that she'd come all the way out here if she was feeling as bad as she'd looked in the club. She walked slowly along the path she almost couldn't see, catching sight of her friend among the shadows near the water line. She was standing alone in the wind, her arms spread wide and her head thrown back. The blonde moved closer until she was within arm's reach, but she didn't touch her.

"Emily?"

"I thought you had a date tonight, JJ," Emily remarked, her arms falling to her sides.

"I did," she replied calmly, stepping closer so she was within her friend's personal space, "I cut it short. You're more important. I saw you at the club, and you looked so upset. I followed you out here. I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to."

The profiler was quiet for a long time, but JJ was willing to wait. The silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that always came with pain and despair, and ended in truth and healing. That's what she held on to, what allowed her to stand quietly beside her friend in the cold wind. When the silence was broken it was the most natural thing in the world, and she was ready for it.

"Frank was a sadistic bastard," the brunette started quietly, her voice low, tired, and a little rough, "and I'm really not sorry he's dead. Jane, though... Jane was a sick woman who needed love and understanding. She was so alone. And then Maggie... she was terrified, JJ, and we almost didn't make it to her in time. Bobbi Baird too... Paul was about to shoot her too, like he had everyone else. Jane ended up dead beneath a train with the man who nearly killed her, and that was it. She was written off."

"But we got Bobbi and Maggie," JJ pointed out softly, letting her hand touch Emily's briefly, "Both times you were there, and you got them."

"Bobbi asked me how they could do it," her friend stated, as if she hadn't spoken, "I told her they didn't think like us. Morgan asked me why I was so quiet later. I told him that I thought we do think like them. We learn about our targets, track them, hunt them, catch them... sometimes we kill them. I shot Charles Holcomb. We shot him. Like the Mulfords shot Alex Harrison and the others. How are we any better?"

"Emily..."

"Morgan shot Paul Mulford without a second thought, you know. I would have shot him if he'd tried to get up or get to his bow. He shot his prey, and he didn't think twice. We pretend we're so much better than them, but are we? How many people have we killed, JJ? We call it justice, necessity, but we're all killers. If we didn't have badges, we'd all be in jail."

JJ shifted so she could look into her friend's dark eyes, glad there was just enough light from the moon that she could see them. They were shadowed and pained, filled with fear, doubt, regret and despair.

"That's not true," she whispered intently, keeping her eyes locked on her friend's, watching for a reaction, "You want to know the difference between them and us, between people like Mulford and Frank, and you? Because I can tell you."

Emily looked down at her, an almost desperate expression on her face behind the barely maintained wall of control. She took that as an affirmative and gently cupped her friend's face, wiping away the tear that had managed to fall despite the brunette's visible efforts to stop it.

"You would never shoot someone in cold blood. You would never kill blindly, or hurt someone for the pleasure of it. You'd never get off on causing pain or seeing someone suffer. No one at the BAU would. You, though... you're different than Hotch or Morgan. They know pain and suffering, so they fight it. They've been hardened, almost jaded by it, for all that Morgan acts like he hasn't. Reid too. He's a kid who saw too much. You, though, you fight with everything you are to not lose yourself in what we do, and at the same time you don't lose your compassion, your gentleness."

She paused, gauging the effect she was having before going on, wiping away more tears.

"You were the only one who really tried to reach out to Jane and understand her. You wanted to help her. Even Reid just dismissed her as a psycho. I did too. But I watched you talk to her. You tried to explain things, to reassure her. With Maggie, you comforted her, made her feel safe again, which should have been impossible after what she'd gone through. And you did it before that with Bobbi. You make people feel safe, cared for."

"You do that too," Emily pointed out, though her expression was starting to relax a little, "And so does Morgan. And Garcia, when she's in the field."

"Not like you though," the blonde argued, smiling inwardly, pleased she was getting through to the older woman, "Jane responded to you. She never reacted to anyone the way she did you. Not even to Gideon, who really just wanted to catch Frank. You were there for her."

The brunette sighed, shaking her head slowly.

"I told Jane the truth," she commented, pushing her dark hair out of her face, "I don't think falling in love is a choice. She couldn't stop herself from loving him, any more than anyone can. The difference is that she fell in love with the most prolific serial killer we've ever seen or heard of. It must have been so hard for her mind to reconcile that when she found out the truth. But she needed to be loved so badly..."

JJ nodded, sitting down on the sand and waiting for Emily to join her. After a moment the taller woman leaned over, resting her head on the blonde's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming after me, JJ," she murmured quietly. The liaison smiled affectionately, wrapping an arm around her friend and scooting a little closer, both for the comfort and the warmth. They sat there together, just listening to the sound of the waves coming in. It was peaceful and relaxing, but she couldn't help but notice the slowly lowering temperature. Emily must have felt her shivering because she was suddenly shrugging off her overcoat and wrapping it around her. She tried to object, but the brunette gave her that sweet smile of hers and stood up, helping her up and adjusting the coat.

"Come on, JJ. You should get home."

"So should you," JJ answered immediately, earning another smile, "Preferably before you catch pneumonia."

"I'll be fine. Living in the mountains with my grandfather got me used to the cold. Go on."

The blonde stood her ground, and Emily grinned. She plopped down in the sand, gesturing JJ down with her. When she tried to sit down at her side the brunette caught her arm, pulling her down to sit in front of her, taking off the overcoat before hugging her tightly. The press liaison was surprised at first, but then she noticed how much warmer her back was now. Then Emily tossed the long coat across her legs, smiling again when she caught on and adjusted it. It was large and thick enough to function as a blanket, and once her body adjusted to the temperature and feel of the sand she was amazingly comfortable. Again they just sat in silence for a while until Emily broke it again.

"Why did you come out here, JJ?"

JJ sighed, leaning back to look up at her friend, propping her head up on her shoulder.

"I was worried about you, Em. I saw you in the club and you seemed upset. I know our cases have been hard, especially since we had to deal with Frank again. Being so compassionate takes a toll on you. I've seen it, even though you're very good at hiding the strain."

"But you were on a date," the brunette objected, "He wasn't a loser like that guy from the bar before the hunter case right?"

"Not at all," she replied with a faint smile, "John was a decent, intelligent, charming guy."

"So why?"

She laughed, shifting a little to make herself more comfortable, then chuckled again. If she got much more comfortable she'd be asleep.

"Because my family is more important to me than anything. And you're a very important part of my family," she answered contentedly, realizing that while she felt bad for how she had treated John, she didn't regret ending it early. This was much better. Had this been a date, the only thing that could make it more perfect would be Emily's incredible wine and truffles. It wasn't a date, though. That was ridiculous.

"What would you have done if I had packed up and gotten on a plane?" the older agent asked after a few minutes, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. JJ smirked, closing her eyes as the tension she'd been carrying around started to fade away. The balance was being restored to her life, and to her family.

"I'd have gotten Garcia to track your flight and followed you wherever you went. I know you Prentiss women think you've got stubbornness mastered, and Morgan thinks he's the relentless pit bull of the BAU, but none of you have seen how stubborn and relentless I can be."

"I think I have," Emily murmured, her voice conveying affection, pride, and contained laughter, "and you just might be right."

They were quiet after that, just leaning back and enjoying the peace. A change in the light caught JJ's attention and she blinked, startled when she noticed she was stiff and the tide was going out. It had just started coming in when she'd arrived, so she must have lost a significant piece of time. Then she realized what had caused the shift in the light. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky, meaning she had to have drifted off for hours. She glanced up, smiling at the peaceful expression on Emily's face. Her friend would probably have one hell of a sore neck, but she couldn't bring herself to wake her just yet. All the agony she'd been carrying around was gone, replaced by a calmness that had been missing for a while now.

"Oh... oww..."

The liaison grinned as Emily started to wake up, groaning as her neck cracked audibly and seemed to be refusing to straighten out. JJ chuckled, considering getting up and giving her companion a quick massage, but her body refused to even consider crawling out of its warm nest, and when she finally did persuade it to cooperate the dark agent wouldn't let her, her arms tightening in a motion that almost seemed convulsive.

"You okay?" she asked instead, trying not to laugh again at the expression on her friend's face. Emily muttered something under her breath and pasted a smile on, slowly working the kinks out until she was at least able to hold her head straight.

"I'm great, actually," the profiler replied once she had gotten past the worst of the pain, "I feel a lot better, for all that I think I have sand in places it definitely doesn't belong. More importantly, how are you?"

"I'm great," JJ replied, then added teasingly, "but then again I had something of a pillow, so I was very comfortable. You're right about the sand though."

That actually got a laugh out of the other agent, and this time when the blonde started to rise Emily let her, getting to her own feet a little more slowly. The liaison tried to hand back the overcoat after shaking most of the sand loose but of course Emily wouldn't accept it when she saw her shivering again.

"Thank God it's the weekend, huh?"

The blonde laughed, impulsively hugging her friend. The other woman started slightly but immediately returned the gesture, and JJ was surprised to realize how warm and strong her companion was. It wasn't the first time she'd hugged the profiler by any means, but for some reason this was different. She didn't know why, or particularly care at the moment. She was just happy to feel so safe and know that the older agent was probably feeling the same.


	7. Bereavement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of two chapters that doesn't have a flashback sequence at the end. Originally this was half of a very long chapter, but I decided it worked better cut in two parts.

**_Bereavement_ : **The state of loss following the loss of a loved one through a profound absence,usually, though not limited to, death. Accompanies grief, and can lead to severe dysfunction if the bereaved lacks support needed to recover from the loss. Issues of personal faith and beliefs may also face challenge, as bereaved persons reassess personal definitions in the face of great pain.

**Date and Time: March 10, 2008 08:27**

**Location: BAU Bullpen, Quantico, Virginia**

Spencer Reid glanced up at the sound of the door opening just as he was about to take a sip of his morning coffee, the mug pausing before it could reach his lips. He hadn't expected to see the two figures who had just entered, but a glance at his calender told him he had lost track of the date again. So, today was the day Emily Prentiss returned to the BAU. She looked good, he decided, watching her stride toward her desk with JJ at her side, showing only a bit of a limp. He remembered her mention in passing that her left leg was weaker than she'd like when he'd seen her last Tuesday, and now he saw what she meant. Something else was different about her, he decided, something other than the pronounced weight loss, the limp, and the tense, guarded wariness about her. When she turned in response to Morgan's greeting as he re-entered from the break room, he figured out what it was. She had bangs, cut straight across her forehead and covering the healing scar there. It was odd to see at first, but he knew he'd get accustomed to it and come to take the style for granted eventually. For now, though, it was strange, especially considering how normal her tailored black suit, off-center belt, and black-striped white shirt were.

"Hey Reid?"

He blinked, startled to see the woman he'd been contemplating right in front of him. The coffee mug threatened to spill over as he jumped, dumping hot coffee in his lap, but somehow JJ appeared behind him and slipped it out of his hand, grinning at him.

"Careful with that, Spence. That stuff is hot."

He laughed nervously, looking uncertainly between the two women before finally settling his gaze on Emily and giving her a shy smile.

"Hey Em. It's good to have you back."

Apparently that was the right thing to say, because she gave him that wide, goofy smile of hers and leaned aginst his desk. She looked like she was about to say something, but then Hotch and Rossi entered, looking grim.

"Everyone needs to meet in the conference room, now."

Hotch handed JJ a file, the contents of which made her expression darken. That was enough for all of them, and Reid and Morgan rose, heading toward the conference room as ordered. Spencer turned back when he noticed that Hotch and Emily weren't joining them, so he was the only one who heard their quiet conversation.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" the Unit Chief asked, and the brunette sighed, starting to reach up to brush her hair back and stopping herself halfway, as if she had momentarily forgotten why her hair was styled the way it was and then suddenly remembered.

"Hotch, the shrinks cleared me. My own psychiatrist cleared me. Even Jen... Even JJ thinks I'm ready. And this is my job. If I can't do this, I can't do my job and I'll have to resign. Again. It was bad enough the first time."

"But last time you were doing the right thing, Prentiss. You refused to be a mole for Strauss."

That surprised him, not so much because it wasn't like Emily to sacrifice herself for others, but because no one had ever mentioned why she had resigned or the tension between her and Strauss when she'd arrived in Milwaukee.

"Are you telling me I should leave?" Emily was asking when his focus returned to the conversation, and her expression was decidedly cooler than it had been when he'd last looked. Hotch shook his head, looking tired and worried.

"No. You're an asset to this team, and it would be a real shame to lose you. I just want to be sure I'm not pushing you too hard too fast."

The dark woman nodded, sighing again.

"JJ will know if I'm pushing too hard. I hate to put that on her, but..."

Hotch was the one to nod this time, this time in understanding.

"You trust her, as you should. And I trust you. Just... Let me know if I can do anything."

Spencer retreated to the conference room as they started moving, so he was sitting down when they came in. He wasn't sure why he was hiding the fact he'd overheard them, but it seemed like the thing to do. The genius noticed the quick look that passed between Rossi and Hotch, but he had no way of reading it, and before he could think through it JJ started talking, pointing her remote toward the main screen.

"Los Angeles County has a serial killer on their hands. This is the first victim, Alexander Markhus, killed last year" she stated, loading up the first picture of a young man, probably in his mid to late twenties with distinctly Mediterranean features, visible despite the cruel puncture wounds to his eyes and the agony marring his face.

"He was castrated and his eyes were punctured, apparently pre-mortum. His killer left a note," and now the screen shifted to a somewhat wrinkled slip of paper, "stating that this was just the beginning. In the last years, several others were killed in the same fashion."

The liaison brought up a set of 4 pictures, all Mediterranean males of progressing ages, all with their eyes gouged out, all terrified, all castrated.

"The police didn't connect the murders until an elderly man was killed three days ago, and they asked for our help. We were just preparing a file when this morning we found out the UnSub struck again, this time killing a woman."

Two new pictures came up, and Reid had to restrain a gasp. The man and woman had been brutally tortured, to the point of being completely unrecognizable. JJ zoomed in the picture of the male, looking visibly sickened but determined. Spencer glanced over at Prentiss, who seemed her usual self, horrified but not abnormally so. His focus returned to the case file in front of him and the pictures on the screen, trying to comprehend the sheer amount of damage the UnSub had done.

"This is Raoul Johak, the victim from three days ago. When the police saw his body they recognized the pattern the UnSub was making and called us in."

Now JJ brought up a montage of photographs of the last victim, the woman, and Emily gasped, looking down at the picture in her hand and back up, as if to compare.

"Oh my God..."

"Prentiss, what is it?" Rossi asked, leaning forward.

"Look at the lower extremities," the brunette replied, her voice taut and choked, "look at what the UnSub did to this woman!"

They looked, shocked by the damage, and JJ nodded, meeting Emily's dark eyes.

"The coroner found explosive residue on her groin, legs, and inside her..."

The blonde trailed off, her eyes glazed over, then she shook her head, regaining her composure.

"His notes say he thinks the UnSub detonated some sort of pipe bomb  _inside_  her vagina?! While she was still  _alive_?!" Morgan exclaimed, his face turning almost green at the thought. Reid felt at least as bad as the other man looked. That was something he didn't think he'd ever seen before.

"Yes," the liaison replied softly, glancing briefly at Emily. The young prodigy caught the look, noticing the sympathy and understanding in the profiler's dark eyes. It was like they were grounding each other, and now he understood something he had only begun to guess at when he'd seen them last week. There was a connection between them now, something deep and necessary to them both that hadn't been there before, or at least it hadn't been as strong.

"There aren't any statistics that I know of on this type of behavior," he stammered finally, forcing himself to focus on the case at hand rather than his colleagues, "Using explosives as a tool for murder has been documented, of course, but not like this."

"So what does this tell us about our UnSub?" Hotch asked, his voice bringing the team out of their shock and snapping their minds back to profiling.

"They're clearly devolving," Reid pointed out, "but at the same time their killings are getting more complicated. Usually when a person spirals like this, they become sloppier."

"It's like the UnSub is progressing toward something," Emily murmured from across the table, looking through the file again, "Every kill is getting them closer to their real fantasy. The men are progressing in age, so maybe the last man represented the person they really wanted to kill, and the woman... Another target of rage. Maybe they couldn't bring themselves to kill the image of their real target at first?"

Something clicked in Reid's head, and he hunted through his eidetic memory for the information, wondering what it was that sounded so familiar.

"If that's true than we're dealing with someone who is working out some old grudge," Morgan remarked, tossing the file on the table, "And if that's the case they won't stop killing until they get up the nerve or whatever it is to kill the person or people they really want to. The only question is how long that will take."

"And how many bodies will pile up in the meantime," JJ added softly. Reid started, realizing he had read those exact words. The only problem with having an eidetic memory and reading so much was that it was sometimes hard to remember where he had read something.

"So we have something to work with," Hotch declared, standing and gathering his file, looking at each of them, "We leave immediately."

They filed out, gathering ready-bags and anything else they needed. Before Spencer had even noticed they'd left they were at the airstrip, getting on the plane. During their flight Garcia contacted them, looking more than a little sick.

"Okay, I dug up a little more on your victims. They all had different backgrounds and work histories. There was a bartender, a fast food manager, a computer repair technician, and an ER resident. The older man was a musician, and the woman was a lawyer. The only commonality I can find between them is that they're all Greek. Full blood."

"Well that does narrow our victim list," JJ commented, her voice just a touch sarcastic, "Is there any other connection at all between them, Garcia?"

The tech analyst shook her head sadly.

"I have looked into every detail of their lives that exists on a computer. There's no indication that they knew each other at all. Different banks, gyms, hobbies... So far it looks like he just finds them randomly. I'll fax you what I've got. Maybe you super brains can find something I missed."

"Okay, thanks Garcia," Hotch replied, and Garcia's image disappeared from the screen. They talked about the information they had gotten from the tech goddess, but they couldn't put it together either and finally gave up to take a break and get some rest before landing in LA. Something continued to nag at Reid, though, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. He was distracted once again by JJ and Emily, who were sitting at the back. Emily's dark head was on the blonde's shoulder, her eyes closed as if she were asleep, but he could see her hand moving, lightly tracing the shape the liaison's fingers. JJ looked mesmerized by it, her blue eyes totally focused on the movements. He wondered about the faint blush he could see on her face even from here, but then he realized what it was. There was an intimacy implied in the touch, and a total lack of self-consciousness on Emily's part. It was possible she really was asleep and unaware of what she was doing, and the effect on the press liaison, but he doubted it. He may have been naive, but even he knew that it wasn't exactly a platonic gesture.

"Hey kid," Derek called, and he turned, embarrassed to be caught staring at the two, "You remember the last case we had in LA? The comic book artist?"

"Yeah?"

"Well..."

Morgan trailed off, then continued, his expression a touch sheepish, "You read any of those traffic reports lately? I really don't want to get stuck in traffic again and you knew how to get around last time."

Reid smiled, launching into a discussion of traffic patterns and other "relevant" information. Hotch, hearing Reid start into one of his lectures, smiled affectionately and turned to Dave, who was looking out the window at the patchwork below them.

"What are you thinking?" he asked softly, and the older man looked over at him, his expression bemused.

"Those two," and he jerked his head in the direction of the two female agents, "They're finally making progress. And you were right about Prentiss. She doesn't feel the need to hide a damn thing. It's Agent Jareau that seems to shy away from the truth."

Hotch nodded, looking out the window himself.

"JJ's been hurt a lot," he answered, keeping his voice low and choosing his words very carefully, "and she won't open herself to that kind of pain again easily."

Rossi accepted both what he said and what he didn't say, and Aaron was grateful. He didn't want to betray his team, but he also knew Dave well enough to know that the man could keep secrets just a little too well.

"This case..."

The Italian waited for his supervisor to catch on to the deliberate subject change, which didn't take long, then went on.

"Reid was right. To my knowledge, nothing quite like this has been documented. It's brutal, cruel... Sick. You name it. But for all that, the UnSub seems to be in control of what he's doing. It doesn't make sense. A person this obviously insane doesn't have the control necessary to build that device. The report from the ME and the bomb squad said it would have to be tailor made."

Hotch stared out the window for a few minutes, contemplating that. Rossi was right. It didn't make sense... Except it did.

"Dave, what's the most severe case of manic-depression you've seen?"

"Manic depression?" the older man echoed, "Pretty bad. Symptoms of paranoia, psychosis..."

He trailed off, realizing what Hotch was getting at.

"You think our UnSub is bipolar?"

"I'm not sure yet," the Unit Chief answered slowly, "but if this person is a sociopath, a narcissist, and manic depressive with paranoid psychotic features..."

"We're talking about someone extremely unstable here, Hotch," Rossi objected, "How does that explain the bomb?"

"Because bipolars cycle, Dave," he explained, "And when they're manic, they can do anything they believe they can, because there are no limits. They're bulletproof, invincible... And in complete control of their world. A person in the extreme edge of a manic cycle with a knowledge of explosives could pull this off and think nothing of it, maybe not even realize that they did it for real. The boundary between reality and fantasy is so blurred..."

"I admit that it's possible, but Hotch... That's an extreme. Most bipolars would never go that far. Even if they were all the way out on that extreme, someone would notice, or they'd get themselves killed in some stunt. Drug overdose, suicide, those things are relatively common for a person in that deep a spiral. Extreme promiscuity, reckless behavior, all of it. But again, that's rare."

"I know, David," Hotch interrupted, on a roll now, "But you're looking at this the wrong way. If you mix manic-depressive illness with drugs, abuse, trauma, or other disorders, it could happen. And once that person went into a mixed state or hypomania, they'd have some control but still wouldn't know the difference between what's real and what isn't. And the reason the murders are both evolving and devolving is because the fantasy is being played out, giving the UnSub more control over the methods, but not the drive."

"That's a stretch," the older agent point out, and Hotch agreed. It was, but it put the pieces together.

"A sociopathic, bipolar narcissist?" Prentiss asked when he put the idea to his agents, her brow creasing a little under her bangs, "It would fit, I suppose, but I don't even know how rare it is for things to get this bad without someone noticing."

"Well," JJ started slowly, a little hesitant to speak up but clearly encouraged by Emily's smile and Hotch's nod, "What if the person were attractive and charming, as well as psychotic? If their reality is so skewed and so completely dependent on faith and belief, wouldn't it be possible for them to convince others that they were either completely right, or that they were fine?"

The profilers considered that, realizing that was the missing link.

"I know this is highly improbably," Aaron declared, "but it's something to work with. Morgan, get a hold of Garcia and see if she can find out about bipolar patients being brought to area hospitals. JJ, get a hold of the police in LA and ask, carefully, about any disturbances they've had that have been either dropped or explained away. Prentiss, Reid, research. I want to know the statistics, any previous records of this type of illness, and anything else you can find. When we land, I want you on their computers, and coordinate with Garcia. For now, get some rest. We're going to be busy when we land."

They separated as best they could in the small space, and he was satisfied that they were going to hit the ground with a running start. They had to. They were already six bodies behind, and he didn't want the count to climb if they could stop it. He and Rossi talked out the possibilities, but it all came back to the theory they already had. JJ got off the phone with the police about 15 minutes later and said they'd have a file ready when they landed, and Morgan reported that Garcia was doing her "Oracle of all things computerized" thing. That left them with little to do but think, sleep, or talk amongst themselves. He noticed that while Prentiss talked easily enough with Morgan and even more so with Reid, she always gravitated back to JJ, who rarely took her eyes off the brunette. While the two women had always had a more tactile relationship than just about anyone on the team, now they seemed to have taken it further, to the point where one look from Prentiss' dark eyes had the same effect as the brush of a hand against an arm to make a point or the way a light press on the small of her back reassured her. He knew the language they were speaking into the silence, and he knew where it could go. While it pained him to see such a reminder of what he'd sacrificed and lost, he was glad to see the two making progress after so long. It was long overdue, as far as he was concerned. Now if they could just keep it moving and not stall...

"It all comes down to what Agent Jareau will do for Agent Prentiss," Dave remarked with a small smile, as if he'd read Aaron's thoughts, "And how much pushing she'll allow before she bolts. This is definitely far more interesting than driving for hours alone."

Hotch laughed, settling back in his seat and just waited for the plane to land, glancing over at his agents from time to time, more than once catching Emily once again tracing the shape of JJ's hand with the dedication one might give the finest art. When they finally touched down and got off the plane, they were met by two men in suits who identified themselves as field agents for the LA office and produced identification, which Hotch checked thoroughly. He didn't want to take any chances, and he was, to say the least, not fond of Los Angeles.

"We understand, sir," one of the two men remarked at his slightly apologetic glance, running a hand through his unruly brown hair, "Everyone is on edge. We're just here to give you a ride and answer whatever questions we can en route, Our senior agent is eager to solve this and put the bastard behind bars."

The unit chief nodded, gesturing for JJ, Prentiss, and Reid to go with the young man while he, Rossi, and Morgan went with older agent, this man blonde, tall, and burly, but with the face of someone who was more used to books than anything else. He watched his agents walking away, noticing with some amusement that the LA agent immediately struck up a conversation with Reid, and while not intentionally ignoring the two women, he had apparently relegated them to the back of his mind. The drive to the field office was informative, but while Agent Govar was clear and concise with the information they had, there just wasn't a lot of it. It soon became clear why the lead agent had sent Govar and his young partner, Tillman, however. They had both been at the last two crime scenes, and were the ones who would be best able to relay their observations.

"Here we are," Govar murmured once they'd arrived, actually going around to open their doors for them. Tillman came over with the other profilers, looking dazed. Hotch knew that look. It's what happened when someone ended up on the wrong side of one of Reid's lectures. He shook his head once as he approached, nodding to his partner and to the other men.

"You probably aren't going to get much in the way of new information," he commented as they started toward the elevator to get out of the basement garage, "but I should warn you that you're going into quite the war zone in there. This case has everyone up in arms, and I'm afraid there isn't a lot getting done."

"Till," Govar muttered warningly, then gave the BAU team a wry look.

"I hate to admit it," he went on after a moment, "but my partner is right. Everyone is so busy either trying to keep things under wraps, find a way to deal with the press, or jumping the gun on any possible suspects that it's complete chaos. We volunteered to come get you people just to get out of there."

Aaron glanced at Rossi, who looked almost amused, and more than a little resigned.

"Politics, then. So we're going to be stepping on some toes here, one way or another," he observed, sounding just a little too cheerful, "Well, that's fine. We're here to catch this SOB, not walk on eggshells."

Hotch nodded, looking over at his team.

"Dave is right. We don't want to offend anyone unnecessarily, but our job here is catching the UnSub. Anything else, aside from personal safety, is secondary. Understood?"

They all agreed, though he noticed JJ giving Emily a hard look at the mention of personal safety. The blonde, for her part, was taking those words to heart, though not so much for her own safety as her friend's. She wasn't about to let the brunette go out alone, and if she were honest with herself, she wouldn't want her going into the field with Morgan. While she was grateful to Derek for his part in setting up Emily's apartment and all of that, she still couldn't bring herself to trust him with her companion's safety. It was true that if it came down to a fight he was probably her best bet, aside from Hotch, who she trusted almost implicitly. Rossi was still too much an unknown quantity, and that made her uneasy with him. When the elevator doors opened, she took a moment to just stare at the chaos of what should have been an organized office of government agents before putting her press mask firmly in place and stepping forward to do her job, finding the senior agent with the ease of long practice and striding directly towards him, not waiting for Tillman or Govar to follow or make the introductions. This was her part in the scheme of things, and she was going to play it to the finish.

"Special Agent Frank Derst? I'm Agent Jennifer Jareau, with the BAU."

The bald, stocky man, who looked to be in his mid-forties, gave her a confused look, then understanding dawned on his face and he smiled slowly, reaching out to shake her hand. So he understood what she was doing and appreciated it. That could make things easier for them all.

"Agent Jareau, yes, we spoke on the phone. I'm so glad your team was able to make it."

Hotch led the others over and she introduced them in turn, waiting for each to shake hands with the other agent.

"We'd like to get started right away, so could you show us where we could set up?" she asked politely once all the introductions were finished. He smiled again, leading them to a conference room equipped with the works.

"I had a few people busting my balls when I told them to clear out of here for you folks," he commented with a hint of laughter in his voice, and more than a little relief, "but once I showed them the stuff you all had sent us so far, they shut up quick enough. Now, anything you need, you ask me, Govar, or Tillman. I'll make sure one of us is available any time. Tillman has done most of liaising with the other law enforcement branches, and Govar is very familiar with the reporters we usually prefer to work with."

JJ took that in, grateful he was making such a point of being welcoming and generous, because from the look of the office, he might be one of the few people who they could really work with and count on for support. Just in the short time they'd been there she'd noticed a couple small arguments break out, and that was not encouraging. She waited as the others filed into the office, following Emily in and pointedly pulling out a chair for the brunette. She didn't know if the others would have noticed, but her friend's limp had gotten a little more pronounced and it was clear she was stiff and tired after the long flight. Emily's dark eyes caught hers, and she saw the weariness and pain in them that she was trying so hard to hide. Silently cursing the Samis brothers, Ambassador Prentiss, and even Emily's shrink, she sat down, sorting through the papers that had been left for them and passing them out. They all began to read, realizing that much of this was just the same information they already had with very little new data added. Govar, Tillman, and Derst came in a little while later, listening to their theory and asking educated questions that made the liaison grateful that they had a good line of communication to the people who were clearly doing the most work on the case.

"What I don't understand," Govar started once they'd explained what they had so far, "is why this guy isn't just going for whoever it is that they really want to kill. Is it that they need to build up the nerve or what?"

"We think it's more likely they have a very strong relationship with their targets," Reid corrected, and the blonde noticed that, as he had in the car, Tillman's attention became entirely focused on the young prodigy, "Most likely they have a love/hate bond with these people. It could be that they're abusive parents or grandparents, or other family, close family friends, former colleagues or mentors of some sort, that sort of thing."

"Because of that relationship," Prentiss went on, picking up the thread where Reid had left off, "the UnSub can't bring himself to kill the people he's really angry at. Maybe these people are the only tie to reality he has left. Maybe they're a support system or they enable the delusions to the point where it's safer for him to keep them alive for his own sense of well-being, but he still desperately wants to kill them. We can't know until we identify the UnSub and the real targets."

"And we say 'he,'" Hotch added, "but this could very well be a woman. While it's less common for this level of psychopathy to appear in a woman, it's still possible."

"But statistically more serial killers are male, right?" Tillman asked, and Reid nodded.

"There are relatively few female serial killers, that's true, but in our experience it's better not to rule anything out."

The young man absorbed that in silence, and the senior agent took the opportunity to speak up.

"Well, between the flight and all of this reading and discussion you people are probably exhausted, so I'll have these two drive you two over to your hotel. We'll supply vehicles with GPS devices when you're ready to get back to work."

Hotch stood, gesturing for the others to do so as well, and JJ was having a silent party in her head. She had seen the toll all this was taking on Emily, and while the brunette was holding up well it was clear to her that seeing tortured corpses was wearing on her. It was hard on JJ herself, if she were honest. She couldn't help thinking from time to time just how easy it would have been for her beautiful companion to have become one of those bodies a bare month ago, and the thought terrified her.

"JJ?"

She looked up, realizing she'd gotten completely lost in thought and hadn't left with the others. She gave the waiting brunette a tired smile, feeling Emily's hand lightly press against the small of her back, guiding her to the elevator where the others waited.

"You okay?" the profiler asked softly, her voice carrying only to JJ's ears. She smiled again, but the blonde could tell it wasn't doing it for Emily. Of course it wouldn't. The older woman knew her entirely too well to not be able to see through her.

"Really, Em. I'm okay," she tried, but the stubborn profiler was clearly having none of it, but she didn't say anything, so apparently she would wait until they got to the relative privacy of the hotel. The thought of being alone in a hotel room sent a bolt of fear through her, but when she reached the elevator and the doors closed Hotch glanced over at them, then announced that he had asked Garcia to set up the reservations, and relief coursed through her. Garcia would know better than to separate her from Emily. Govar gave her an odd look, but he just shrugged, not asking any awkward questions. The drive to the hotel was quiet, Tillman and Reid in the front seat discussing psychopathy in males and females while the two women sat in the back together, Emily surprising JJ a little by clasping her hand, giving her a look that said she just needed an anchor right now and they could talk later. At the hotel Hotch handed out the keys, giving them all strict orders to rest, though his gaze stayed on Emily the longest. A short elevator ride and walk down the hall later, they were at their room, which was next to the room Hotch was in, across from Reid's, and a few doors from Rossi's and Morgan's.

"Finally..." Emily murmured as they entered, setting both their bags, which she had insisted on carrying, down in the small closet and walking to the nearest chair, sitting down without any of her usual grace, rubbing her left thigh.

"Hurts?" the liaison asked softly, well aware of the answer. At her friend's nod, she added, "You could take some muscle relaxers. You know they help."

She didn't hold out much hope for an affirmative, however, and as she had expected, Emily refused.

"I don't like how foggy they make me," the tired brunette explained, "I'd rather deal with the pain than be at less than 100 percent on this case."

JJ sighed, kneeling down in front of her friend and looking up into her dark eyes.

"Em, if the pain is getting to you this much, wouldn't it make sense to take something for it?"

"I can't, Jennifer," Emily replied firmly, but her voice betrayed the cost she was paying for her stubbornness, "If I can't work through the pain, if I have to keep taking pain killers, how can I expect to perform the way I need to?"

The blonde knew the older agent was right, but she hated to concede that point. And they weren't just talking about physical pain. The muscle relaxers affected Emily's mind too, and while they did make it harder for her to focus on the terrible memories, they often depressed her and once they wore off the likelihood of flashbacks seemed to be higher.

"I hate this," JJ muttered angrily, then a flash of inspiration struck her, and she smiled slowly.

"Come on, get changed. I'm going to give you one of my magical massages."

The profiler actually laughed at that and rose, going over to her bag and rummaging through it. JJ expected her to go into the bathroom to change, which she started to do, but then she did something that took Jennifer thoroughly off guard. She shrugged out of her shirt, tossing it in the general direction of her bag. She continued toward the bathroom, turning at the last moment to give JJ a wink and a seductive grin that left the blonde with decidedly wobbly knees, though some of that was in response to the full image her friend presented. The liaison stumbled into the chair her friend had just vacated, thinking on what had just happened. Emily kept doing things that left her off balance, and she never knew when she would get the shy, goofy, professional, wounded, or downright sensual sides of her friend. Over the last two weeks she had seen more of the sexy, seductive Emily than she had in the entire time they'd known each other, and she had wondered more than once if confessing that she was in love with JJ had set the brunette free somehow. Jennifer wished she knew what it was, because her own responses were overwhelming her, like now, but she didn't know what to do about them.

"Stop brooding, get changed, and come to bed," Emily's voice commanded, and she started just as Reid had that morning, looking up into tired but tender, loving brown-black eyes. The words and expression sent a rush of heat through her body, but JJ firmly reminded herself that her companion was referring to the promised massage and sleep. She stood up, almost falling back into the chair as the inevitable, yet still unexpected blood rush hit her. Emily stabilized her with surprising ease considering how much pain she still had to be in, shaking her head with an amused glint in her dark gaze.

"Am I going to have to change you myself?" the brunette asked softly, and JJ stared blankly, her mind caught up as a ghost image of Emily's hands undressing her flashed across her eyes. She blinked, actually surprised it wasn't happening the image had been so vivid. She staggered to her bag and into the bathroom, aware the entire time that her companion's gaze was following her every move. She took her time getting ready for bed, needing to get a grip on herself. She didn't like being so out of control, but Emily just kept sending her mind and body into these mad spirals, and she couldn't seem to make it stop. It was just getting worse the more she tried to ignore or control it.

"Damn..." she mumbled, shaking her head in front of the mirror. Two weeks ago, before she had known Emily was in love with her, things were easier. She didn't question everything she felt or thought. She didn't wonder if maybe...

"Don't even go there," she growled at herself, washing her face roughly as if that would scrub the thoughts out of her, "She needs her friend right now, not some hormone-stricken teenager."

With that thought steadying her she returned to the main room, inwardly relieved that Emily was already laying face down on the bed, her gaze turned the other way. They had moments like this, too, when the brunette seemed to understand exactly what she needed and gave it without question. It was just the way she was, and Jennifer loved that about her, but sometimes she almost wished the older agent wouldn't be so accepting. She didn't know what the alternative would be, but it made her feel guilty for not being able to give whatever it was that  _Emily_  needed when the woman herself gave her so much, including her heart, apparently.

"You're brooding again," Emily's soft voice called, breaking her out of her thoughts again. JJ smiled gently, understanding once again just how well her friend knew her, and how much she cared for her. Pushing aside the confusion and the guilt, she decided that she was the one making things messy and complicated, and she was sick of it. Emily deserved better than that.

"You're right," she agreed, climbing onto the large bed and positioning herself so she could reach most of Emily's long body, "but then you usually are. For tonight, though, I don't want you to worry about me. You do that enough as it is. Just lay there and look beautiful. I'll do the rest."

She flushed when she realized what she'd said, but it was true, and she wouldn't let herself dispute that. Emily was downright gorgeous, and she knew better than anyone how deep that went. Thankfully the profiler didn't look up at her, but she could see her smiling shyly, as she always did when JJ complimented her. Deciding to start where the massage would do the most good, Jennifer started with the long, muscular legs stretched out in front of her, focusing on the left side first. At first the older woman tensed, an indication of just how much pain she was actually in, but before long JJ's skilled hands had loosened the muscles and the brunette was relaxing, making her job easier.

"So what was wrong at the field office?" Emily asked suddenly as the liaison worked her way down her leg, glancing over her shoulder at the other woman, "You were upset about something. What was wrong?"

JJ considered dismissing the issue, but then changed her mind, knowing that her friend asked because she honestly wanted to know, and she wouldn't appreciate JJ being dishonest or vague. So she settled on the truth, knowing it was better than the alternatives but still resenting that reality.

"I was thinking how easily you could have been one of those pictures," she explained softly, feeling the muscles under her hands tense, then ease somewhat as she went on, "and how grateful I am that you aren't. I just want you to be safe, Em. Losing you would be unthinkable."

Emily made a soft sound that could have been agreement or something else, then she sighed, turning over and holding out her arm. JJ hesitated for just a second before just letting go of the guilt, retreating into the solid warmth of her friend's embrace.

"It's scary," the brunette started after a moment of silence, "knowing how close I came, I mean. I look at those pictures and I remember what it felt like to be tortured and tormented, learning to doubt that the pain would ever stop, and wondering, like Garcia has said before, why we would be made to feel so much pain. It just doesn't seem right or fair. And I remember thinking over those six days that maybe a world without pain had never existed, that maybe that was all a hallucination and all that I had ever known was agony."

Tears jumped to the blonde's blue eyes as Emily spoke in a voice both deeply wounded and threaded with some unbreakable strength of will, realizing once again just how strong and incredible the woman who had fallen in love with her really was.

"I looked at those men and the woman, especially the woman, and thought about how for six days the only thing I believed in, aside from the pain, was you, and I started wondering if they had something like that to hold on to. And when it came down to it, the more I read about them the more I wondered how they felt as they suffered and died, who they left behind... And what they regretted. I didn't have regrets, exactly. Nothing was real enough for that. All I knew was that I wanted to see you again, to know you were safe before I died. Those people... They're all reduced to words and images on paper. All they were is that now, that and the people they left behind. And I just keep wondering... Was it enough? If I had died, or if I died tomorrow or next week or next year... Would I leave enough behind to make the pain and misery worth it? Does it ever balance out?"

Jennifer was quiet for a long time, crying silently as she listened to the strong heart beating under her ear, then finally gathered the strength to look into those dark eyes, seeing the scars in them that should never have been there, knowing her own gaze had some of the same barely-healed wounds now.

"There's a Dylan Thomas quote I read in school that always stayed with me," she murmured softly, not sure why she was saying what she was but feeling it needed to be said, "'Do not go gentle into that good night... Rage, rage against the dying of the light.' You taught me more about not giving up, about fighting for life, than I ever thought there was to learn. And the idea that I gave you some of the strength you needed to hold on... It's incredible. And all I want is to know how so I can make sure to do that again and again, so I don't have to ever lose you. "

"Just be yourself," Emily replied in a voice laden with tears, holding her more tightly, "And just... Be honest with me. This is the most we've talked about how I... About me loving you since I told you."

The liaison realized that was true, regretting it immediately. Emily had seemed so confident, but she knew her better than that. Much of her confidence was an "act as if" defense, one that usually served her well but in this case had masked her emotions entirely too well.

"I'm so sorry, Emily. I didn't realize we hadn't talked about it. We talk about everything... Just not that. And it's not because it bothers me that you're in love with me. It's probably the most amazing thing I've ever heard. I guess... I guess somehow I sort of took it for granted that you knew that."

Emily shook her head, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"You just told me everything I needed to hear, Jennifer. Now we can sleep, get up tomorrow, and face the day. And don't worry. I'll be all right. It's a process... And this just happens to be one of the harder steps. We'll get through it."

JJ heard how automatic the "we" had been and smiled, snuggling comfortably against the taller agent.

"Yes,  _we_  will."

Emily chuckled, and the blonde sighed, letting out the stress the day had brought with it and willing herself to sleep. She closed her eyes, thinking that she'd make a plan for the following day and then rest, but the next thing she knew there was light coming through the drapes and the clock on the side of the bed read 7:47 am.

"Wha-"

Emily jerked in her arms, and she looked down, smiling despite her own startlement at the sight of the nearly black eyes looking around in sleepy surprise. Her friend just looked so adorable and innocent like that.

"It's time to get up," JJ explained, "We must have fallen asleep."

Emily nodded, but her gaze was distant, the way it got when she had an epiphany on a case. Jennifer stayed quiet, letting her think. She was a little surprised when her friend growled faintly, shaking her head.

"There's something about this case, Jennifer," she stated, her voice harsh with sleep and frustration, "I just can't place it. Reid thought so too, I could see it. There's something so familiar, and I just can't think what it is. It's like trying to remember a dream that you know is important, that you should hang on to, but you just can't..."

The blonde nodded, leaving it at that knowing full well that the brunette would eventually think of whatever it was and tell her about it. They took turns showering and dressing, though Jennifer could swear Emily's eyes roamed just a little more than usual when she stepped out of the bathroom in her jeans and v-neck shirt, still toweling her hair dry. It was distracting, and she was grateful her companion decided to drive since she kept getting flashes of the look Emily had given her last night, and the view. It didn't help the somehow the brunette's hand seemed to brush hers, or her arm, or some other part of her rather more often than she was used to. She didn't think she could have kept them on the road with how out of sorts she was feeling every time that graceful hand touched her.

"Jennifer?"

The blonde looked up, snapped out of a daze she hadn't realized she'd gone off into. She looked up into those familiar dark pools, falling into them without thought or control.

"Jennifer!"

She blinked and shook her head, wondering what the hell was going on with her lately. That kept happening, and it was driving her to distraction and more and she just couldn't think why something so simple and familiar would cause her mind and body so much chaos.

"Wha... What is it?"

Emily gave her a bemused look, gesturing to something outside the SUV. The liaison followed the gesture, startled when she realized they were right outside the field office.

"Oh..." she mumbled, ducking her head to keep from looking at her friend, "You could have told me."

She noticed the profiler grinning at her out of the corner of her eye and had to force herself not to meet that gaze, afraid she'd get lost in it again. Instead she got out of the SUV, striding into the office and trying to ignore her awareness of the taller woman who was somehow right behind her, so close she could feel the heat of her body.

"Emily, JJ!" Reid called, giving them a long look before turning back to the board he was working on. Morgan's gaze stayed on them longer, and JJ felt herself wanting to squirm. With a sigh she turned to look at what the young doctor was working on, finding a geographical profile that was just starting to be colored in. Sudden warmth behind her made her look up, finding nearly black eyes looking at the map with an unusual intensity, their owner very nearly right against her back.

"Em?" Reid asked, seeing the focus in Emily's face as well. The brunette was silent for a long moment, long enough that it caught the attention of Hotch and Rossi, who came over looking curious and interested.

"You got something, Prentiss?" Hotch asked after another few moments, and Emily nodded slowly, her expression changing as her gaze fell on one of the pictures, the older male victim.

"I know this... I knew this was familiar!"

She turned to the rest of the team in a startlingly rapid motion, her face intense with some knowledge she couldn't hold in. Her proximity to JJ made the blonde acutely aware of the tension in her friend's body, a tension that had as much to do with excitement this time as it did memory or fear. Emily did so love being able to help the team like this.

"It's a book! That's why it seemed so familiar! I've read about this in a book! It was published just a few months ago, after the murders started. I remember the dedication was strange. Something about it being a story that should never be true, but it would happen because the writer couldn't stop it. I remember thinking that was odd when I read it, but now it makes sense!"

"I remember that one now!" Reid exclaimed, his fingers snapping as he spoke, his young face almost glowing with sudden enthusiasm, " _Fracture_! That was the name of the book!"

"So does this book talk about our guy? And the writer? Any sense that he could be a serial killer?" Rossi asked, looking between the two profilers. Emily gave him an odd look before looking over at Reid, speaking hesitantly once their eyes met and the young doctor nodded.

"Sir... The writer is a woman, Keira Datton, and while the writing was vivid, it was also brutally honest about everyone involved, including the female protagonist. And the antagonist, the killer... That was also a woman. It described a lesbian relationship between the killer and the protagonist, which ended badly and the woman spent the rest of the book trying to escape her former lover under the protection of a mysterious Agency. She ended up falling in love with the commander of her team, but the end of the book doesn't say if they got together or not. It ends with the protagonist deciding that she needed to stop running away and find her lover. That's what I mean by brutally honest. The protagonist has her demons, but never does the author show her any more mercy than she does the killer. If anything, she's kinder to the killer, gentler, than she is to her hero."

Rossi gave the agents a long, measured stare, clearly deciding whether or not to ask why they had both read what was apparently a lesbian romance novel, then shook his head, apparently letting it go. Hotch stepped forward, taking command effortlessly.

"Reid, go with Morgan and Tillman and get that book. Read it, see how it relates. Dave, I want us out at the scenes to see if we can get any more information from them. We'll bring Govar. Prentiss, JJ, call Garcia. Find out if she can track down this Keira Datton. If she can, get out there. Take a car or the jet if you need it. Just find her, bring her in. Either she knows our UnSub or she  _is_  our UnSub. Either way we need to get her here."

JJ was already on the phone and gave Emily a quick nod as Garcia typed, holding one ear closed to block out the sound of another argument brewing outside their little haven. The whole environment here was uncomfortable, and only the presence of her team and the three local agents Govar, Tillman, and Derst kept it from becoming unbearable. Well, that and the constant nearness of Emily Prentiss, distracting as it could be.

"Got it!" Garcia exclaimed, drawing her attention back to the phone call and away from the elegant hands that were moving in sharp, graceful motions to emphasize some point to Reid.

"You found her? Please tell me she's not dead, Garcia."

The tech analyst chuckled lowly in that distinctively smug way she had when she had done something especially difficult that she knew would help their case.

"Keira Datton, age 23, born in Hawaii, raised in California, moved out to the east coast four years ago after leaving home and living more or less off the grid for about nine months. A psychology major at WVU, she got her bachelors and then stopped, apparently to write. Her book wasn't an instant best seller and it didn't immediately get the attention of critics, but it got great word of mouth and something of a following. Now it's highly read and being considered as a model text for classes in psychopathology and profiling for its in-depth analysis of the inner workings of a serial killer's mind... and a victim's."

JJ smiled affectionately at the wealth of information Garcia had compiled so rapidly, and at the way she'd apparently gotten distracted from the real question.

"And her current address, Garcia? You get that?"

"Ye of little faith," the analyst replied chidingly, "I already sent it to your PDA."

The blonde shook her head, realizing she shouldn't have underestimated her friend. She checked the address, realizing they'd have to fly out and drive from the airstrip, since the location was in the mountains of Montana. She wondered why the writer would move out there and when she'd done so, but she knew she'd out.

"Great, thanks. Fax us over everything you've got on her. We'll pick it up on the jet. Emily and I are going to go talk to her."

"Well you two have fun out in the country," the computer genius shot back, inexplicably making her blush, "Not too long a flight, huh? Maybe that's for the best."

"I'm hanging up now, Garcia," JJ shot back, hearing her friend laughing as she hung up. Before she could dismiss the whole thing a hand brushed her back. She felt herself smile and turned to look up at her taller friend, surprised as she always was at the open affection and tenderness in that dark gaze. She still hadn't gotten used to the way Emily had been looking at her lately, even though it was happening more often lately as the older agent seemed to become more comfortable with what she felt.

"Come on, we need to get out there."

Jennifer nodded, following her friend out. Hotch watched them go, his brown eyes dark with concern. He didn't like what was happening, not because he didn't approve of them, and not because he wouldn't protect them if they really did get together, but because JJ refused to see what was right in front of her face. She was too busy being scared for Emily, too busy needing to protect and care for her to pay attention to herself. As long as all her energy was devoted to healing Emily, she wouldn't take care of herself, and that was taking a tremendous toll on both women. What he was counting on was the brunette figuring that out without his needing to intervene, and if the way Prentiss had been watching her friend in the two days they'd been working this case was any indication, he hoped he wouldn't have to worry too much longer. Little did he know that at that moment, and an hour later, Emily was wondering how to broach that same subject with Jennifer, debating whether to be direct or somewhat subtle, and if she had the time to wait until this case was over or not.

"Em?" the blonde asked, coming up behind her and holding out a bottle of water, which she took with a soft smile, watching Jennifer as she sat down on the seat across from her.

"You okay?" she asked softly, waiting for her friend's inevitable response and already deciding how she would respond to it.

"I'm fine," the liaison answered, right on cue, "What about you? Are you okay?"

Emily hesitated just a second, sighing inwardly. She was tired from being reminded of her own torture every time she looked at the pictures, tired of the fear she couldn't fight off or ignore, but she was becoming more afraid of losing Jennifer to herself, and she couldn't allow that to happen. Now was as good a time to start as any. It was just the two of them, and they had about another hour at least before they got to Montana, where Datton lived now.

"That's not what I asked, Jennifer," the brunette murmured, waiting for the startled look she knew would come next and sighing inwardly when it came. When had JJ become so predictable?

"What do you mean? I'm fine, Em."

She shook her head slowly. She had committed to this now, and she would see it through.

"No you aren't," she replied wearily, letting down most of the walls she usually kept firmly up, revealing just how much the case and the job was taking from her before adding, "and neither are you. We've been living together, Jennifer. Do you really think I don't know how much time you spend watching me, waiting for any hint of fear, any sign of nightmares or flashbacks, anything that I would need you to stop or protect me from? You've been doing it ever since..."

Here she hesitated despite herself, vividly remembering the moment she'd first seen the beautiful press liaison's face when she'd been rescued, and mixed relief and terror she'd felt in that moment. As she relived it, it reminded her once again why she had to do this, and she closed her eyes, letting the emotions flow through her.

"Emily?"

She could hear the concern and the fear and sighed. She couldn't lose this woman. Not again. She had come too close before, and she'd be damned if she gave Jennifer up now. When she felt her companion get up and move to her side, she reopened her eyes and reached out, taking one of those calloused, healing hands into her own, twining their fingers together, hating the fearful expression on her friend's face but knowing she couldn't have avoided causing it one way or another.

"You don't understand, Jennifer," she started softly, "I'm grateful. I'm beyond grateful, actually. But you can't keep just looking out for me and ignoring yourself."

When JJ would have interrupted she shook her head, going on before she could be interrupted.

"You take care of me, sweetie. You watch me constantly, you cook for me when I can't do it myself, you help me clean up the condo, you even help me wash my hair when the pain is too much. You take care of me 24/7. And I'm incredibly grateful... But when do you take care of yourself? You go to therapy, sure. An hour every couple days to talk about  _you_."

"Emily... I just..."

"Shh."

The brunette leaned closer, using her free hand to stroke blonde strands out of her companion's face, her face gentle but intent.

"You know I'm right, Jennifer. And I know you do it because you care, because you hate to see me hurting. That's fine, but I need you to be healthy too."

"I take care of myself!" the liaison objected weakly, but Emily shook her head again, seeing in those blue eyes the same concern and fear of failure that had brought up this conversation to begin with.

"Physically, maybe. You eat, shower, even sleep sometimes. When it comes to how hard this is on you, though... If you ever start thinking about yourself, you just go back to taking care of me. I love you. You already know that. But at the rate you're going, the day isn't too far off that this all gets to be too much and you'll implode."

Jennifer very nearly gave in to the anger that was building up, but she froze inwardly when she realized how ridiculous she was being, and how selfish. She had no right to snap at Emily when she hadn't even given the idea any thought or really considered its validity. There was a very good chance that the brunette was right and she just didn't want to think about it, and that would make her a coward. One thing she could not tolerate being in her own eyes, and even less so in Emily's, was a coward.

"Let me think about it, okay?" she temporized, regaining control over her atypically short temper. Emily nodded, but the look in her eyes as she turned to the window could only be described as defeated, and the hand that had been holding Jennifer's tightened its grip once before moving away. The liaison frowned, wondering why her friend was so upset by this. It couldn't really be that much of an issue, could it? Apparently it was, as they spent the rest of the flight in silence, though Emily didn't move away when the blonde gave in to her impulse to recapture her hand. JJ held it tightly, trying to find some way to convey through the contact that she was all right and the brunette had nothing to worry about. Somehow she doubted Emily was reassured. They filed the empty space by reading what Garcia had sent them on Datton, discovering that the writer had moved to Montana after getting her degree two years ago. She must have written, or at least finished, the book up in the mountains, then. Maybe that's why she'd moved. She needed the quiet to write. She doubted it was that simple, though.

"Ladies," the captain announced over the intercom after about another hour or so, "We're about to start our descent. I know you're familiar with the drill, but please stay seated and buckled in. Thank you."

The landing was fairly smooth, as always, and when they got off the plane there was a car waiting with an agent leaning against it. The red-haired, athletic woman straightened as they approached, almost saluting, much to JJ's amusement. It was a completely different attitude than the locals would have, and it was kind of refreshing.

"Agents, welcome to Montana," the other agent started, seeing that the two BAU members were eager to go, "I've programmed a GPS system for the address your analyst provided, and because we sometimes lose the signal out here, I have written directions as well. Safe driving. If you want any backup, my partner and I can accompany you."

All this was said in a rush, and a glance at Emily revealed that the brunette was as amused as she was.

"Thank you, agent, but that won't be necessary," the profiler replied, taking the sheet with the directions out of the agent's outstretched hand and giving her one of her most pleasant smiles, "It's better not to show up with more people than necessary, but we'll keep your offer in mind."

The redhead nodded, backing away from the car, her eyes fixed on the brunette in a way that Jennifer was decidedly displeased with. She was just a little too interested, she decided, and if the woman ran her eyes over Emily the way she had just done again, she might just have to take drastic action. Who did the woman think she was, anyway? She hadn't even introduced herself properly and already she was looking at Emily like she was ready to tear her clothes off!

"Jennifer," a familiar voice called, breaking her out of her seething thoughts, "Let's go."

She turned to look into dark eyes, surprised and confused by the tenderness and amusement in them. She might have said something, but she remembered the presence of the other agent and simply nodded, going around to the passenger's side, since Emily was obviously planning on driving. Once they were on the road, the profiler glanced over at her, smiling warmly.

"You know, if you're going to be my bodyguard, we're going to need to change your wardrobe a little."

Jennifer, who had been reading over the printed directions, jerked her head up and around to stare at her companion. The brunette's focus was once again on the road, but in profile the smile Emily was trying to contain was very visible.

"What are you talking about?" the liaison asked, looking down at her comfortable black jeans, blue v-neck, and sensible black shoes, "When did I become your bodyguard? And what's wrong with my outfit?"

Emily chuckled over, letting go of the wheel with one hand and moving that limb to JJ's thigh, where it stayed. She shivered at the contact, extremely aware of the little movements she could feel through the thick fabric of her pants. JJ sighed, forcing herself to relax, noticing as she did that the longer that hand stayed there, the calmer she felt. It was almost like Emily was anchoring her, though why she needed an anchor she didn't know.

"There's nothing wrong with your outfit. You look beautiful, Jennifer," the brunette was saying, and she refocused on her friend's voice, smiling in response to the compliment but waiting for the rest, wondering if she was about to be teased or even insulted. Not that it was Emily's style to insult her. When the profiler went on, though, it did nothing to ease her confusion.

"But the fact is, if you're going to go around looking at anyone who flirts with me, or even just gives me  _that_  look, like you're getting ready to tear them into microscopic pieces, then you're going to have to butch yourself up so your victims know what to expect. The way you look now, they're not even going to have a chance to defend themselves once you start punching. Or shooting, whichever you prefer."

JJ blinked a couple times, wondering if she had somehow landed in some alternate universe, but everything stayed just the same. When Emily's eyes met hers briefly the brunette laughed, lightly squeezing her thigh. She almost didn't hear what her friend said next, too distracted by the warmth of that hand and the shivers that were traveling up and down her leg.

"You were looking at that agent like you were going to kill her, Jennifer," Emily explained with another laugh, giving her another quick smile, "And if she had touched me, I thought you just might start a fight. I've never seen you look at anyone that way, not even UnSubs."

Jennifer was about to object, then she remembered the rage that had been building up while she'd watched the pretty redhead give her friend the eye. She sputtered, trying to find some way to justify her behavior, but there wasn't anything she could say, so she resorted to laughing along with Emily, releasing the tension from her muscles as she did. They drove in silence for a while, comfortable with each other once again, the friction that had been caused in the plane almost fading to nothing. Finally the blonde sighed, lightly grasping Emily's hand and squeezing gently, getting the profiler's attention.

"I didn't like the way she was looking at you," she explained softly, putting into words something she was just coming to understand herself, "She didn't introduce herself, didn't bother with anything other than business and looking at you like a piece of meat. I've seen men look at women that way, and that's bad enough. But they're men. They're supposed to be like that. A woman should know better, and you... You deserve better than that."

She could feel dark eyes on her, but JJ kept her gaze facing forward, unable to look at her friend as she spoke.

"All she knew was that you're a BAU profiler and this gorgeous woman with a beautiful smile. She didn't even ask your name. If you had said 'Hey, let's get a motel room!' she probably would have said yes without a second, or first thought. But that's not right, Emily," the liaison went on, shaking her head and trying to make some sense of her own thoughts as she added, "I know I have no right to say this or tell you who to sleep with, but you deserve someone who understands you, someone who loves you, not a one night stand with some man, or woman, who doesn't even have the courtesy to ask your name."

JJ heard a soft sigh, then the hand on her thigh moved away. She missed the contact immediately, and her leg felt cold where Emily's hand had been. She gave in and looked over at her companion, jumping slightly when that hand reached over again, the backs of those long fingers lightly caressing her face before it once again retreated to the steering wheel.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," the older woman replied, her voice soft and warm, "I'm not interested in one night stands. I have what matters right here."

The blonde couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or charmed, so her brain settled on both, leaving her blushing and smiling like an idiot. Emily let it be, which she was grateful for. She didn't think she could handle any teasing on the subject when she wasn't even sure how she felt about all the connotations in her friend's comment. Somehow JJ lost herself in thought, because the next thing she knew the SUV was stopped and Emily was standing at her door, holding it open with a bemused look on her face. She gave her an embarrassed smile, scolding herself mentally for getting lost in her head  _again_ , and slid out of the big vehicle into bitingly cold mountain air, looking around curiously despite the chill that cut right through her clothes. They had pulled up to a log cabin of sorts, though that was a modest word for the structure. The building blended into its surroundings, becoming part of the woods that were backing it rather than being separate. It was clear whoever had designed it had intended for it to be that way, but it somehow managed to look almost as if the cabin had been grown rather than built.

"You know," she started as they walked up the clearly marked path to the front stoop, knowing that Emily was taking in every detail just as she was, "I can't help but think that the kind of person who would want to live in a place like this isn't going to fly into Los Angeles to kill people."

The profiler nodded, looking around again once they reached the porch before knocking on the door, her free hand hovering not far from her gun. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds before the door swung open, revealing a tall woman wearing loose black jeans, hiking boots, and long-sleeved red shirt, her smoky brown hair tied back in a short pony tail that was more functional than anything else. Her eyes, when they met JJ's blue ones, were what really grabbed the person who saw them. They were dark gray, the color similar to pewter or lead, but their color wasn't the most distinctive thing about them. It was the pain in them, and the sense that their owner had seen far more than she ever wanted to and had not come out of it unscathed.

"Keira Datton?" Emily asked, her mind racing in an attempt to decide if she was looking at a serial killer and maybe even walking into a trap. The woman nodded silently, looking between them before setting her gaze on the taller agent. She had expected some surprise, some sense that they were unexpected, but there was nothing like that. All she could see was the pain and an expression of resigned exhaustion.

"We're with the-"

"FBI, I'm sure," Keira interrupted, her tone somehow managing to keep from being rude, "The Behavioral Analysis unit, perhaps?"

The older woman glanced at JJ, who gave her a quick look in return that told her Keira's attitude and demeanor had taken her off guard as well. And there was something about her voice that had grabbed at Emily's attention. It was low, for a woman, and there were hints of an accent that might have been British, but she doubted it. She couldn't quite place it. It was just something about the way she rolled the A's and slightly slurred S's.

"We're from the BAU," Emily confirmed, trying to find some way to read the woman in front of her, "I'm Agent Emily Prentiss, and this is Agent Jennifer Jareau, or JJ. We'd like to speak with you, if you wouldn't mind. Could we come in?"

The writer stepped back, opening the door more widely for them. When Emily hesitated for just a second, Keira seemed to almost smile before turning away, walking into the house and clearly expecting them to follow. They did, though slowly, and Jennifer closed the door behind them with a certain amount of reluctance. Despite the caution and concern they were walking into a trap laid by a serial killer, was something of a relief to get warm after the short exposure to the mountain air, which had made the elbow and shoulder of her left arm throb, reminding her of the injuries her body was still recovering from. Shoving those thoughts aside, she tracked Keira to a kitchen offset from the main living area, noting as she did that the place was set up to be open and airy. There was a short hall, which she guessed led to whatever bedrooms and bathrooms the house had, but it looked like the living room was the focal point of the home. There was a desk that looked like a computer should be there but wasn't off to one side, facing the rest of the living room and the television. Overall the place gave an impression of an orderly mind that could tolerate some chaos, but not too much. It was comfortable, she decided, and she had to admit that everything she saw in this house supported JJ's earlier commented. If her home was any indication, she was not their UnSub.

"Would you two like some tea?" the writer called, breaking her out of her thoughts, "I'd just put some water on to boil before you arrived."

She searched the comment for any hint that the woman considered their presence an intrusion or worse, but there was none. If anything, it almost seemed as if Keira had been expecting them.

"That would be fine, thank you," she replied, resorting to courtesy to hide her growing discomfort. It was strange, she decided, to be more uncomfortable with being treated politely than she was when the BAU's arrival was met with anger or worse. She was once again broken out of her reverie by Keira, who returned from the kitchen carrying a tray. There was silence for a few moments while the two federal agents seated themselves on a black leather couch that matched the dark tones of the rest of the furniture and made a pleasant contrast to the paler walls and the tea was served, then Keira sat down in a chair, her cup in one hand, something Emily couldn't quite see in the other.

"Ms. Datton-"

"Keira," the young woman interrupted, once again managing to keep from being rude, "If you came all the way out here, it wasn't to make nice with me, but I'd still prefer you use my first name. And unless I'm very much mistaken, you're here about this."

She tossed something on the coffee table between them, and Emily picked it up, realizing it was a manuscript. Specifically, it was the manuscript for _Fracture_ , and she looked up into the dark gray eyes that were watching her with a look of one expecting to hear something they already knew.

"We were hoping to talk to you about that, yes," JJ confirmed, speaking up for the first time, "Your book has some striking similarities to a series of murders we're investigating, some of which took place before this was published, and others as recently as four days ago."

Keira nodded, taking a slow sip of her tea and staring down into her cup, looking like she was drawing strength from somewhere inside herself, strength she seemed to need to go on.

"You want to know if the woman in it exists," she stated, making it clear it wasn't a question, "and how I knew the details of murders that hadn't happened yet. And you're also hoping to find out if I knew because I'm your serial killer."

Neither agent spoke then. There was no need, and all three women knew it. The writer was quiet for a while, then leaned forward, reclaiming the manuscript, her hand pressing down on its soft cover as if she could reach through it into the world it described.

"You've probably profiled me already," the young woman went on finally, "and you probably have a hunch that I'm not your killer. Well, whether you believe me or not, I haven't killed anyone, though maybe this once that isn't something to be proud of."

She sighed, shaking her head slowly.

"The heroine of this book, if you want to call her that, exists. So do most of the people it describes, in some form or another. All my characters are made up of various people I've known, but a few are solely themselves. My mentor, the woman who saved me more times than I can count, stayed herself, as did her partner of some forty years. And the protagonist's guardian... She existed once."

For just a moment Keira's face was a mask of remembered agony, then she sighed again, meeting the watching gaze of the two federal agents, her eyes giving them a window into a soul that had been, and still was, tormented by fear, guilt, and regret. They both knew that look, having seen it in each other's faces, and their own, more than once in the last month or so.

"The antagonist I described in  _Fracture_  was my girlfriend, my lover, for a the better part of a year. That was over four years ago now. I left her the day she decided she was going to buy illegal drugs, which she happened to be allergic to, rather than going to therapy."

The writer must have realized she was leaving a lot out, because she leaned back and took another sip of tea, visibly collecting her thoughts.

"Her name was... Is," she corrected, sounding as if the present tense hurt to use, "Jenna Odari. She was diagnosed bipolar, with psychotic and paranoid features just to make things more interesting. Later on it was decided that she had schizoaffective disorder, which filled in a lot of holes. When I met her she was on medication, Lithium among others, but it didn't take long for her to go off them, which caused her to spiral into a depression before rising into mania. Most of the time I knew her she was manic and unstable. She was dangerously addicted to opiates, and in the course of what passed for a normal week in our life together we'd visit emergency rooms for one reason or another at least three or four times. As time went on, she became more convinced in her own superiority, more convinced that she had power over people. Eventually she came to believe she was the creator of the universe."

Keira fell silent, which Emily was grateful for. She needed a moment to absorb what she'd just been told, and all the subtext along with it. It was becoming exceedingly clear that this was torturous for the young writer to talk about, which was why she was rushing to get it all out at once. Fortunately, Jennifer had been taking notes, leaving her the job of listening to the story and hearing what wasn't said.

"It wasn't all her fault," Keira went on reflectively after a few minutes, "I enabled her delusions, even encouraged them early on, not realizing what I was doing. Jenna had warned me before she went off her meds that it would happen. She tried to get me to leave, but I wouldn't. I loved her, and I thought maybe if I loved her enough, she would start to heal. Instead she got worse, because when she lost touch with reality, I gave up on the real world too. I surrendered to her world, became a part of it, using my abilities as a storyteller to build on the fantasy, making a place for me in her world."

The writer shook her head, bowing her head to look at her hands.

"When I fought the fantasy, Jenna found ways to convince me to fall back into line. Sometimes it was sex, others it was threats and fear. And until the drugs, it worked. I watched her get drunk, inject herself with opiates she had dissolved and heated, for hours, and I stayed. But when she decided she was going to do heroin... I bolted. One of her old friends got me out, and I went back just long enough to have her institutionalized by her parents, who we were living with at the time. I moved across the country and lost touch with her, but I remembered everything, all the fantasies, all the pain... And the good times. I had promised her once that I would write a book, a story about her. So I did. I wrote  _Fracture_."

Keira picked up the manuscript again, flipping through it absently.

"I knew one day she would become the killer she is in the book," she went on brokenly, clearly fighting back tears, "I knew one day someone would come find me, looking for a killer, looking for her. So I waited here, aware that she would eventually remember me and know that I had betrayed her, and she would kill me too. Either that or I would be found by the people who wanted to catch her. I guess it was the latter this time."

Emily noticed something odd about the statement, but it took her a moment to realize what it was, and when she figured it out she wasn't reassured. Unless she was very much mistaken, Keira might actually have preferred the former to, as she had put it, "betraying" Jenna Odari.

"Can you help us find her?" the profiler asked gently, worried that Keira either couldn't or wouldn't. As the silence stretched on, she glanced at Jennifer, seeing the same fear in those blue eyes that would be in her own had she looked in a mirror.

"I have to," Keira whispered at last, meeting Emily's dark eyes with an expression so wounded that for a moment the older woman worried she was going to have a mental break. That look was the same one she herself had worn after being rescued, and she wondered just how much suffering Jenna had caused this woman. As if hearing her thoughts, Keira's gaze suddenly turned piercing and she straightened, pulling her shirt off in a smooth motion. Though the plain white sports bra covered part of her chest, vivid scars were visible on much of her upper torso, forming some sort of symbol she couldn't identify.

"Jenna marked me," the writer stated firmly, her voice startlingly calm, "The scars have barely faded since she first did it. This is just the most visible mark she left behind."

Keira sank back into her chair, pulling her shirt back on in movements that lacked any of the energy she had just displayed, as if the demonstration had taken all she had, but when she met Emily's eyes the agent was looking into gray fire.

"I wrote her story," she murmured, looking between the two agents, "and now I have to finish it. I'll help you find her."

"How do you plan to do that?" Jennifer asked, her voice gentle but firm, "If you haven't spoken to her in years..."

For the first time since they'd arrived Keira smiled, though the expression more closely resembled grief than pleasure.

"You live in close quarters with someone, you share a room that becomes the center of your reality, you learn their habits, the way they think, their quirks, the things they like and the things they fear. I'm probably the only one alive aside from her parents who knows her that well, and if your team doesn't catch her soon, it'll just be me. I know where she's going to go, because I know who she most wants to kill. You wouldn't have come looking for me unless it was desperate."

Emily nodded and rose, Jennifer a split second behind her as if anticipating the move, which she probably had.

"Whenever you're ready, then, we'd like you to accompany us to Los Angeles. Our team is there waiting."

Keira nodded, getting to her feet and disappearing down the hall, reappearing moments later wearing a snap-collar black leather jacket and glasses, a single-strap backpack over her shoulder.

"That's all you're bringing?" Emily asked carefully, her tone conveying the real question of 'you're ready that fast?' The writer shrugged, lifting an arm in a gesture that took in the house.

"This is my home. I can't exactly pack it and take it to LA, so this will have to do. And I realize it may appear strange that I'm ready to leave when I didn't even know you were coming today, but as I told you, I've been waiting for this for a while. I'm not the type to go into this sort of thing unprepared."

The two agents had no choice but to accept that, and the three women went out to the SUV. By some unspoken consent Keira sat in the back on the passenger's side, leaning her head against the back of the seat and closing her eyes. It was like she couldn't watch as they left her home behind, Emily caught herself thinking, wondering why the departure seemed so final. Shrugging off the dark cloud that had fallen over her thoughts as best she could, she focused on driving and getting as much information out of Keira as she could, though she was careful not to push too hard. The more the young woman talked, the more she found herself reminded of Kari, the girl who had been the only survivor when her family had been killed, and the girl she'd nearly adopted. The writer was older and more mature than the teenage Kari had been, but when Keira talked about the events following her break up with Jenna, there was the same tone of loss, confusion, and fear that Kari had when she'd talked about the murder of her family.

"Keira," she started hesitantly in a break in the younger woman's narrative, "you talk about Jenna as if she were dead. You always use the past tense. Why is that?"

When the writer didn't immediately answer she glanced back, startled by the agony in the dark gray eyes as they looked into hers.

"My Jenna, the woman I fell in love with years ago, she's dead. She was killed by the disease, by the drugs, by herself... And... And by me, I suppose. I won't ever get her back. I can't think of her as my Jenna, Agent Prentiss... If I do I think I might lose my mind."

Emily frowned, looking at the writer in the rearview mirror, catching Jennifer doing the same. That wasn't the answer either of them had been expecting, and it was a little disturbing to hear something like that from a woman who had proven to be largely pragmatic and realistic. Keira sighed, shrugging and turning to look out the window.

"Someone taught me that a mind as broken as Jenna's can have different 'selves.' I'm not talking so much about personalities as projected images. The Jenna I fell in love with was warm, kind, and understanding. She loved without conditions or need. As she went off the meds that kept her self-image stable, those parts of her were consumed by others, the parts of her that needed control and power. She began to project the sickness as herself, until that became all she was. It's like a quote I read a book once."

"'You are who you pretend to be,'" Emily quoted quietly, remembering saying those same words to Morgan once, "'So be careful who you pretend to be.'"

The writer nodded, her gaze still focused on the scenery as they drove by it.

"Yeah, something like that. When she saw the sick part of herself in the mirror and it got to be all she could see, that's what she became. The woman I knew, the woman I loved, she doesn't exist unless Jenna were to find that side of herself again, but I gave up on that a long time ago. In order for her to be that woman again, she'd have to see herself that way, and she won't. That requires medication, anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, and she won't take them. So instead she's become a psychotic serial killer who lures her victims and her helpers with her intelligence and sheer sexuality, both of which she has in abundance."

Quiet reigned in the SUV after that, the profiler and the liaison both mentally sorting all the new information to present to the team later. Without thinking Emily reached over to rest her hand on Jennifer's thigh, only aware she'd done it when the blonde shivered faintly at her touch, though when she looked there was no sign she objected. Emily caught a glimpse of Keira's face in the mirror as she turned back to the road, realizing the brunette had caught the move. The expression on her face was odd, a mix of pain, jealousy, and gentle amusement, and it stayed stuck in her head the rest of the way back to the airstrip, where their jet was refueled and ready to go thanks to an earlier call from JJ to the captain. When the writer saw the jet she smiled, but the expression faded almost instantly, replaced by quiet sadness.

"Is something wrong?" Emily asked quietly as they boarded, but Keira shook her head, summoning a weak smile for the agent.

"Not really. Just memories. My father was a pilot, and the last time I was in a plane he was with me. That was when I moved to Montana almost two years ago. He died not long after of cancer."

"I'm so sorry," the profiler replied, and she meant it. It was becoming increasingly clear that in her relatively short life the woman had suffered a great deal of loss and pain, more than anyone should have to bear. The younger brunette fixed her with a long look, her gray eyes flitting to a spot just above her eyes before looking back into the dark depths.

"I think maybe I should say the same to you. It looks like you've had some... trouble... recently."

Emily froze, hearing the way Keira stumbled over the word 'trouble,' realizing what she really meant by it. She shifted her bangs self-consciously, pulling them back over the scar on her forehead. The writer looked past her, then away, her face turning just a little red. Emily looked behind her and noticed that Jennifer was standing there, a look that was some mix of concern, anger, and understanding on her face.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's all right," the profiler burst out, stepping closer to the younger woman on impulse. She had the sense that if she didn't take hold of this opening, she'd miss out on something, some chance to connect with the girl. Spurred on by the hope and fear in the gray eyes, she reached out, gently gripping the other brunette's arm.

"It's all right," she repeated in a softer voice, "Really. It's just that it's something that happened fairly recently and I'm not entirely used to the idea yet."

The rumbling of the plane's engines starting up interrupted any response Keira might have made, but once they were seated, JJ and Emily siting together facing the writer, the younger woman remarked, "Those kinds of scars, and the things that cause them... They do take time to get used to, as much as anyone can get used to... those things."

Emily was very, very grateful the woman hadn't said the word 'torture,' which she clearly had been about to. Even this extremely cautious conversation was pushing at the weak spots in her internal armor, and she absolutely could not afford to lose control right then.

"It does," Jennifer agreed quietly from her side, and the profiler felt a calloused hand take hold of her own, steadying her and giving her the strength to reinforce the barriers in her mind that kept the memories at bay. Keira looked between them, then sighed, reaching over to pick up the bag she'd set down at her side, unzipping a side pocket and pulling out a small device the size of a keychain, which Emily quickly realized was one of those miniature digital photo album keychains. Keira pressed something, making a picture appear and looking at it for a long moment before holding it out to the two federal agents. The picture was of a grinning, relaxed Keira being embraced from behind by a smiling woman with slightly curly black hair and dark, laughing eyes. There was something about the woman that reminded Emily of a cat, though, a sense that she was quite capable of hunting and killing what threatened the woman in her arms.

"That's Shamira Resman," the writer explained softly, and the older woman noticed that the way she accented the name sounded Hebrew. The name Shamira meant "guard" or "protector," and she had no doubt this was the woman Keira had mentioned earlier as her guardian.

"Who was she?" the profiler asked gently, and Keira sighed, looking down at her empty hands. When she answered Emily got the impression that this Shamira woman was the source of some pleasant, and some very painful, memories.

"After my father died, I got a some very threatening messages and there was even an attempt on my life when I went to LA for his funeral. When I talked to my mentor about it, she used her connections to get me some security, over my objections. Shamira was that security. She and I... We got very close in the eighteen months or so that I knew her. She told me she had fallen in love with me... But that same day, the 23rd of last November, she died protecting me, true to her word. I don't know what you think Jenna's body count is, but Shamira was her first kill, though not her first victim. Even I don't know who the first was."

The dark agent sorted through that, her eyes widening as she absorbed the implication.

"How many people has Jenna Odari killed?" Jennifer asked, sounding a little breathless. Emily, worried by her tone, looked over, seeing a look in those blue eyes that surprised her. There was fear in that gaze, and what looked oddly like longing, which was completely out of place considering the question she'd just asked. Emily realized the longing had to do with the emotion in Keira's voice when she described her bodyguard, but knowing that didn't really help the confusion.

"I don't know how many your people are looking at," Keira replied steadily, her voice taking on that strangely calm quality it had at very peculiar times, "but that I know of, 7, though all but two of them were indirect. Planned and encouraged by her, but she didn't get her hands dirty until later."

"Later?" Emily asked, slightly distracted by her concern for her friend but otherwise completely focused on what the younger woman had to say. Gray eyes met hers, the expression in them an odd mix of anger and sadness.

"The first three were doctors she felt had done wrong to her. She got whoever she was fucking or buying drugs from at the time to do it for her in return for promises. The other two were those previously mentioned men, who she persuaded to kill themselves. Shamira, though," and here the writer hesitated for the first time in this recital, pain flaring behind her dark eyes as she choked out, "Shamira she killed herself. Stabbed her with a knife that I had left behind when I ran away four years ago. We were just in LA to meet with my editor to finalize the book…"

At their odd looks she muttered, "I've been collecting knives and swords for years. It's something of a hobby of mine."

"That means in the last year or two Jenna Odari has killed at least 13 people," Jennifer whispered, glancing at Emily with horrified eyes before looking back at the watching writer. Keira was quiet for a moment, then sighed, gently taking the picture keychain out of Emily's hand and looking down at the picture it still displayed.

"That would make sense. Jenna has a sort of obsession with the number 3, though it was 4 for a while. She's either going to kill her parents next, making it fifteen, or she's going to kill someone else, either before or after. Either way, her parents are going to end up dead."

While not the most shocking thing Keira had said since they met her, it did take both agents somewhat by surprise. What was most disturbing was how calm the young woman was about the statement she had just made, as if she had merely commented on the weather. She must have seen the look they both gave her, because she chuckled wryly and held up a hand in a gesture of resignation.

"Since the first person she killed, I've known who her real targets were," Keira explained patiently, her comfort level with the subject not reassuring the two agents at all, "and even before that, really. I've known for years that if she ever crossed that line, they would become her victims. She loves them desperately, and she depended on them to support her financially, and keep a roof over her head, since she was always incapable of holding a job. The reality is that she needed them, and that's why they're still alive. But if, as you say, she's killed 13 people, she's already preparing to murder them too."

"How can you be so-" Jennifer started in an indignant tone, but a sharp look from Keira cut her off, the gray eyes suddenly burning with rage.

"'So' what, Agent Jareau?" the brunette growled, her voice cold and seething with barely contained emotion, "Don't think for a moment that I'm not sickened by all of this. I know far better than you do what goes on in that woman's head. I lived in her world, and nearly died there. Whatever she'd done, whatever it is that brought your team to LA, it's nothing compared to what she'll do to those two people. Whatever the worst you've seen is, she'll cross that line and show you a glimpse of what awaits in the deepest circles of hell. She is insane, Agent, and there is nothing she won't do. You, Agent Prentiss, your team, me, we're nothing to her, nothing but minor obstacles or useful pawns. In her mind there is no one above her, no one equal to her, and so she has the right to do whatever she wants to them."

The liaison turned to Emily, who had a hand on her gun, the other shifting to gently grasp her friend's arm. She was fully prepared to pull the blonde behind her if Keira made a single threatening move, but once again the writer seemed to become exhausted just talking about her former lover, and she wilted back against her seat, her eyes glazing over somewhat.

"You can relax, Agent Prentiss," she muttered quietly, her gaze flitting to the gun before focusing on Emily's face, "I may not be entirely stable when it comes to Jenna, but I'm not about to attack you or Agent Jareau. I said I would help find her, and I will. I'm sorry I lost my temper."

The profiler stayed quiet until JJ relaxed under her hand and the blue eyes gentled in understanding Emily herself was already feeling.

"I wasn't going to show you these," she started once the writer and the press liaison had come to an unspoken agreement that a truce had been called, "but maybe you should see them. You might be the only person who can tell us why, and how much further it could go."

She took the case file JJ somehow had handy, giving her companion a warm, grateful smile as she did. Keira hesitated just slightly before taking the file from the other brunette, but then her body straightened and her expression became determined. She paged through the reports first, her eyebrow rising as she read, then she sorted through the pictures as the agents looked on, gauging her reaction. Yet again it wasn't what they expected. Instead of the shock and terrified horror every member of the BAU had felt, the young writer just closed her eyes for a moment and sighed, looking back up at them with a haunted, yet resigned, expression.

"I had hoped she had just been ranting when she talked about some of these things," the writer commented in a voice threaded with pain and despair, "but apparently she meant every word. And I didn't stop her then... They let her go."

"Let her go?" Emily asked, grasping again at the oddities in the younger woman's statement "Who let her go? Go from where?"

The brunette blinked, then shook her head, her expression almost sheepish as she looked up from the pictures.

"Sorry. I get lost in thought sometimes," she explained with an embarrassed chuckle, then sobered, her face losing any trace of humor, "I told you that when I left I had her hospitalized. I also recommended to her parents that for their safety, hers, and everyone else's, she be put into a permanent facility for treatment. They did put her into a residential facility once the lockdown on her in the first hospital had been lifted, which only happened because she was being moved. I had hoped the issue was settled, but then I found out how lax the place was. I lost touch with her and her parents, so I didn't know she had gotten out until she..."

Keira trailed off and looked away, but Emily noticed that her hand had a white-knuckled grip on Shamira's picture. A quick look at JJ told her the blonde had seen the gesture too, and neither of them had the heart to say the words when the young writer probably heard them echoing in her mind, over and over. Once the younger woman had relaxed somewhat, Emily asked gently, "Are you going to be all right?"

Dark gray eyes fixed on hers, so full of turmoil, regret, guilt, and pain that she couldn't stop herself from shifting to the seats and pulling Keira to her in a warm embrace. The writer stiffened under her touch, then abruptly melted against the profiler, crying helplessly into her shoulder in what might very well be the first time in a very long time, if Emily judged her correctly. She had been wondering while Keira told her story just how long it had been since she'd had anyone to really talk to, a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Isolated as she had been up in her mountains, she doubted the opportunity came often. She doubted even more that the writer would take it easily.

"It's all right," she whispered soothingly, once again reminded of Kari and holding the young teenager, "Let it go, Keira. It's okay."

When Emily looked up Jennifer was watching her with an expression so tender and warm that she blushed faintly, her mind calling up the image of being on the other side of this tableau while JJ had held Kari after her nightmare in the hospital. As soon as the liaison saw that Emily was watching, she smiled and reached over to lightly squeeze the dark agent's knee in a gesture at once understanding, encouraging, and reassuring. Emily couldn't count the number of times Jennifer had held her like this, and it pained her to realize that the woman in her arms hadn't had that at some of the worst times in her life. She  _knew_ , without any doubt, that she had made it through the torture and the aftermath because Jennifer had been there. So how did this young woman survive?

"I'm sorry," she heard the writer whisper after some indefinable period, but the young woman didn't pull back. From how slack her body had become, and how raw and raspy her voice was, the drain on her reserves, both physical and emotional, had been enormous. Emily smiled, feeling in Keira's body the same lassitude that had often come over her after such releases of pent up fear and guilt.

"Don't be, Keira," the profiler answered gently, hugging her a little more tightly, "It's all right. Just rest now. You're safe here. We've got you. Just rest."

Keira seemed to struggle against her obvious exhaustion for a few minutes, but in the end her weariness won out and she slept. Both agents noticed the softness about the writer as she relaxed against Emily, and the brunette found herself reminded of a young child. The thought startled her, and she looked up at Jennifer, who was watching them both with sad, sympathetic blue eyes.

"She's so young, Jennifer," Emily whispered, not wanting to disturb the woman in her arms but willing to bet she was largely dead to the world, "She's just a kid. She never got to be a normal college kid, going out drinking and partying, getting in trouble. Instead she had to spend every day knowing there was a killer out there and unable to do anything about it. She couldn't betray Jenna, and that alone tells us how much influence the woman has on the people around her."

JJ nodded slowly, but Emily could guess that she was wondering why Keira hadn't come forward with information on Jenna Odari when she'd first started killing. Emily wasn't entirely sure, but she thought maybe the writer had. How else would she have gotten a bodyguard? Someone had known about Jenna, and they were the ones who hadn't notified the proper authorities. No wonder Keira had been so guarded initially. She'd already been failed by law enforcement before this, so why wouldn't it happen again? She could see her friend coming to at least some of the same conclusions by the sudden flare of anger in her blue eyes and the way one of those calloused but elegant hands reached out to brush brown hair of Keira's face.

"Maybe she'll get a chance at a life once this is over," the blonde whispered, but when she met Emily's eyes, it was like looking into a reflection of her own emotions.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Emily asked, her voice filled with the aching misery she had started becoming aware of the closer they got to LA, "You don't think she'll have that chance any more than I do."

Jennifer looked away, and when she looked back her eyes were glimmering suspiciously, confirming Emily's fears.

"We can protect her," the blonde whispered weakly, "The team will look after her. She'll be all right. She'll make it."

The profiler shook her dark head, looking down at the woman-child she was holding before looking back up at the woman she'd fallen in love with, knowing from JJ's expression that all her fear, sadness, and misery showed clearly on her face.

"Then why do I have this feeling that the minute we walk her into that field office we're signing her death warrant?"

Jennifer had no response for that, and Emily hated to see the helplessness in the blue eyes. The blonde must have seen something in her own brown eyes, because the next thing Emily knew the liaison was kneeling in front of her, one of her hands slowly clasping Emily's in unspoken support and sympathy. There was nothing either of them could say to change that horrible feeling of foreboding, so they didn't try. They just sat there together, supporting each other as best they could and watching over the broken writer while they had the chance.


	8. Psychosis

**_Psychosis_ : **A severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that

contact is lost with external reality.

**Date and Time: March 11, 2008, 13:34 (Pacific Time)**

**Location: Skylight Books, Los Angeles, California**

"Reid, come on, you haven't finished with that book yet?" Derek asked his companion, absently flipping through a copy of the book Reid was reading with much more interest. Tillman had already left, called out to one of the crime scenes to help Hotch, Rossi, and Govar with something. He wished he could have joined the LA agent, but someone had to stay with Reid.

"I've read it twice, actually," Spencer replied distractedly, "It's interesting. I'm not sure I've read a novel quite like this before. It reads like a profile in places, and at times it's hard to tell who the heroine is supposed to be. It's not the killer, but it's not really the main character either. If anything, it's telling the story of the people around those two. The woman who wrote this clearly had intimate knowledge of psychology and of the shadows in her own mind."

"So is she the killer or what?" Morgan asked, impatient with the young genius and eager to get moving, aware that every minute they spent here was one minute the UnSub had on them. Reid gave him a sideways look, and if he wasn't very much mistaken the expression on the younger man's face resembled the one he'd worn after Emily had been taken, a look that shut him up faster than anything his colleague could have said. He looked away, his eye falling on a brunette that was browsing the shelves nearby. She was pretty, he noticed, in an unconventional sort of way. She was about average height for a woman, and her face was angular in places, soft in others, and her nose should have been just a little too long for beauty but it wasn't. When she glanced in his direction he was struck by the warmth and knowledge her brown eyes conveyed.

"You looking at  _Fracture,_  huh?" she asked, nodding slightly toward the book he held.

"Uh, yeah..." he replied, surprised to find himself stammering a little, unsure how he'd gotten thrown so completely off his game, "My boss heard about it, told us to check it out."

That all-knowing gaze brushed over the apparently oblivious Reid before coming back to him, a hint of a smile playing on the woman's lips. She reached up, brushing a bit of fine brown hair out of her eyes, the red highlights catching the light as she shifted. He caught a glimpse of a messy bun and darker shades, then her voice and the movement of her large eyes caught his attention.

"I knew Keira once," the brunette remarked, and for just a second there was something unnerving about the woman, something that made him want to move back, but it was gone so fast he was sure he had imagined it.

"Did you?" he asked curiously, "Some of my colleagues are going out to meet her now. What's she like?"

Again there was something indefinable about the stranger, something that made him twitch, but again it was gone so fast he couldn't put a finger on what it could be. She smiled, but the expression carried a world of hurt behind it, and he found himself angry at whoever had caused that pain.

"She seemed sweet at first, charming even," she explained, sounding almost nostalgic until her tone altered, becoming harsher and at the same time more wounded, "but I found out how psycho she really was later. Almost too late, actually. If you're looking for her because you're looking for the person who's been killing all those people in the news, you won't have to look far. Once you find her, you'll find your killer. She wrote down exactly what she was going to do. She was manipulative, always telling stories and getting a thrill out of watching people jump through her hoops."

There was something odd about the stranger, Morgan knew, but he found he couldn't quite think what it could possibly be. She was charismatic, and sheer force of personality rolled off her in waves. And yet... She seemed so fragile. When she talked about Datton she had paled a little, looked nervous, almost as if she expected the writer to appear from thin air and hurt her. Somehow that idea really bothered him.

"I'm sorry Miss," Derek apologized suddenly, holding out his hand, "But I never caught your name."

The woman smiled almost shyly, gripping his hand firmly, but not too firmly.   "Jo. And what about you?"

"Derek Morgan," he answered, smiling warmly as he regained his bearings, shaking off whatever had been slowing down his thinking before, "And you're right. I'm investigating the recent murders here in LA with my colleagues in the FBI. Any information you could offer would be very welcome."

Jo smiled again, stepping slightly closer, managing to linger just at the outer edge of his personal space.

"Well, Agent," here she paused, tilting her head to one side, "I assume that's right? Agent?"

He liked her all the better for that slight show of vulnerability, and his smile widened.

"Yeah, that's right."

Her lips curved into one of the most attractive and subtly flirtatious smiles he'd ever seen, and she edged closer again, still not quite invading his space, but getting close.

"Okay, Agent Morgan. I might be able to find some of Keira's old stuff. She was my roommate for a while, but she left in a hurry after I kicked her out. I never fell for her psychobabble, or all that stuff she used to tell me about her not taking her meds because she was allergic to them, or any of that, but I tried to help her. It just got to be too much after a while. She was bipolar, and she had it bad. Her whole family did. But anyway... How should I contact you to let you know if I hear or find anything?"

He grinned, proud that he'd gotten the woman to open up about the writer, and hurriedly fished out one of his cards, his cell number written on the back. He didn't want to lose his chance.

"You think of anything, or you feel you might be in danger, you call that number," he explained as he handed the card over. Jo nodded, tucking it away carefully before stepping back and starting to turn away, pausing long enough to give him another of those incredible smiles before strolling away. He couldn't help but notice that the brunette's blue jeans were just tight enough to be flattering but not enough to be obvious, and her multihued dark blue tank top hugged her body without being over the top. That was a woman who was very aware of herself, aware and honest. He liked that.

"Derek."

The dark agent was startled at the sound of his name, and he turned, finding Reid watching him with an uncharacteristically unreadable expression on his face.

"What, kid? You done yet?"

"Yeah, I'm done," Reid replied, his voice as indecipherable as his expression, "I paid for the book already, so we can go."

He nodded, heading out of the bookstore at a fast pace, but unable to keep himself from looking around, hoping to catch sight of Jo again. Sadly she seemed to have left, and he sighed, getting into the black SUV and buckling into the driver's seat, waiting for Reid to get settled before backing out of the parking spot and heading out onto the road.

"So who was that woman you were talking with?" the younger agent asked after they'd been driving for about ten minutes, and Morgan glanced over at him before focusing on the road and the unpredictable Los Angeles traffic.

"Her name was Jo," he replied, somehow annoyed at Reid for calling the attractive brunette 'that woman,' like some common street girl, "And she may have just broken our case. She knew Keira Datton, and everything she told me about her fits the profile of our UnSub. We should call Prentiss and JJ and make sure they're okay. They might be walking into a trap. Jo implied that the woman was very deceptive."

"Mmm."

The noncommittal response was also extremely atypical of Reid, so much so that Morgan dared to take his eyes of the road again for just a second to make sure the man sitting next to him was in fact Dr. Spencer Reid, and not someone else entirely.

"What's your problem, Reid?" Derek demanded, wincing inwardly when he realized how harsh the question had sounded, but he didn't like how Reid was acting toward him. The prodigy had been talking just fine with the team earlier, so why was he acting so weird now?

"I don't have a problem. Let's just get back to the field office."

Morgan was prepared to argue the point but the other agent stuck his nose back in  _Fracture_ , effectively cutting him off.

"Come on, Reid, don't you have that thing memorized by now?" he asked in an aggrieved tone, but Spencer didn't even look up.

"I have an eidetic memory, Derek. Of course I've memorized it. I'm looking for the nuances, the author's quirks, the things she doesn't say, that sort of thing. It's a complicated process when there's a lot going on at once."

"Why even bother?" he grumbled irritably, "We already know she's the killer. How else could she have known all the details of murders that hadn't been publicized, or even committed yet?! Our concern now should be for Emily and JJ."

Just as he said that, Reid's phone went off. Morgan feared the worst, vividly remembering Jo's carefully contained fear as she'd talked about Keira. His team had been through enough already, they didn't need some psycho writer looking to make a name for herself killing two of them.

"Hello? Oh, hey JJ. What's up?"

Derek let out a sigh of relief, taking some reassurance in the fact that Reid's body language was calm and not alarmed in any way, which it would be if what JJ was saying, or how she was saying it, were at all indicative of trouble.

"No, we just left the book store. We had to drive around for a couple hours looking for a place that had it in stock, since it's not exactly a best-seller or even something the big chains would want to carry a lot of. Then we had to find parking, and we stayed at the place for a while. I had read that Skylight was a great place to people-watch and-"

The liaison must have managed to avert the coming lecture somehow. Derek smiled to himself, sure he could hear Reid's jaw snap shut from where he sat. Still, it bugged him that his companion seemed so much more animated talking to the blonde press liaison than he had been while talking to him. They usually got along well enough, so what was the problem now?

"Oh, so you guys are already on your way back? That was fast."

The other agent was quiet for a moment, and Morgan started to worry again as his expression changed, becoming more concerned.

"Are you sure?"

Whatever JJ had said couldn't have been too reassuring, because the younger man's expression didn't clear.

"If you say so. Tell Emily to be careful driving back, all right? I'll fill you in once you get here."

Reid hung up a moment later, staring fixedly out the window for long enough for Derek to get distinctly irritated.

"So? What's up? Are they okay?"

"They're driving back from LAX with Keira Datton now," the genius replied absently, still not turning to face the other agent.

"Already? What happened?"

Now Reid did look at him, but his expression was still unreadable.

"Nothing happened. Since they took our jet and didn't have to make any stops the flight time was cut down by approximately 67. It's much faster to fly direct than to be forced to make connecting flights."

Morgan knew that was true, but he got the sense that there was something going on in the kid's head that had nothing to do with airline statistics, or flying in general.

"So did they arrest Datton already? Get her to confess even? That would make things easier."

Reid was quiet for a long time, and when he finally did answer it could only be taken as a reprimand.

"Derek, you haven't even met the woman yet. None of us have, except Emily and JJ. We can't just jump to a conclusion because some woman you met in a bookstore told you what you wanted to hear."

"What did you say to me?" he demanded angrily, pulling out of traffic so he could give his full attention to his colleague, "What the hell is your problem, Reid?"

"You!" the younger man shot back, taking the dark profiler off guard with his intensity but giving him no chance to recover or interrupt as he added, "You made up your mind when Emily and I mentioned the book that Keira Datton was a serial killer. You just... Forgot... that she lives on nearly the opposite side of the country, and the fact she was there when Emily and JJ got there says she would have had a hard time being in Los Angeles for the last murder and see the results, which this kind of killer would  _need_  to do, or that nothing in the information we found on her suggests she's ever been diagnosed bipolar. You made an assumption, and before you go getting in trouble with Hotch for it, maybe you should take a step back and think!"

Morgan had never heard Reid quite that angry with him, or that sure of himself. And he had made that assumption, he realized, but it was the only explanation that made any sense, and he said so. Reid just shook his head, refusing to talk about it any more. Derek knew it was dangerous to make assumptions in their line of work, since life and serial killers had a way of throwing curve balls when you least expected them, but what else was he supposed to think? The woman wrote about murders that hadn't happened yet. She knew details about the ones that had happened that had never been publicized. It all fit, and he was even more convinced after talking to Jo.

"But Jo knew her!" he argued, "She said-"

The big man was forced to stop abruptly as the car ahead of theirs hit the breaks, interrupting him before he could finish. From the look on Reid's face, though, maybe that was for the best. The prodigy was silently staring at him, then he reached into his ever-present brown folio case and pulled out his iPod, putting his headphones in place and returning his attention to the book he still held. The message was clear. Morgan growled inwardly, then sighed, trying to let the anger go. Datton would be at the office soon, and they could interview her and they would see that he was right. That settled, for him at least, he focused on keeping them both alive, already framing how he would accept Reid's apology in his mind. Reid, for his part, was doing his best to contain his anger at his colleague, not wanting to lose his temper with him again. Most of the time he respected Morgan as an agent and a profiler, well aware that the other man caught things he missed, especially when it came to the social aspects of cases. Ever since Emily's kidnapping, though, there had been a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that Morgan might make another mistake like that, and this time whoever suffered for it might not survive. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, and he hated doubting a member of the BAU. They were family, and they depended on one another in more ways than one. He knew he was being harsh, especially considering he had never blamed JJ for his own kidnapping, but the circumstances had been different. It had been his own choice to split up, over JJ's objections. Morgan, though, had been right there when Emily had been grabbed, and he hadn't noticed. He'd been to busy flirting, just as he had today. What if Jo had just been there as a distraction? What if someone had grabbed  _him_? He wasn't like Emily. He couldn't have held on like she had. That's where most of his anger came from, he realized. It stemmed from the fear that came from the realization that Morgan hadn't changed, even though his mistake had nearly gotten Emily killed. He hadn't given a second thought, or maybe even a first, to the idea that Jo was targeting him as someone who could be distracted by beautiful women.

"We're here, kid," his colleague almost shouted after a while, which was necessary because of how high he'd set his music. Reid nodded and collected his things, striding over to the elevator and not caring whether Derek kept up with him or not. Of course, the more athletic injury had no problem matching his pace, but Spencer decided to ignore the questioning look he was getting. He needed to talk to Hotch. The Unit Chief would know if his concern was justified or not, and if it were, he'd take action. The young profiler knew he could count on that. He would trust Hotch with his life. Much to his relief he could see the distinctive forms of Hotch and Rossi in with the three LA agents and breathed a little easier. Once they entered the office he could see that the men had really been making use of their walk-through of the crime scenes and whatever they'd been doing after that. The table and walls were littered with photos and notes and perversely Spencer felt some of his anxiety melt away. This he knew how to handle, unlike the world outside this office. Hotch looked up immediately as his agents came in, noticing that both profilers looked angry and edgy. Morgan stopped to look over what they'd put together so far, but Reid came right up to him, his face both relaxing and becoming more tense.

"Hotch, could I talk to you for a minute?" the younger man asked, and Aaron frowned, catching his youngest agent's quick glance toward Derek. He nodded, leading Reid to Derst's office, which the senior agent had gestured toward as soon as he had seen what was going on.

"What's wrong, Reid?" he asked immediately, knowing Spencer wouldn't have called him away unless there was a serious issue. When the young agent was finished laying out his concerns and at least some of what had occurred in the book shop, Hotch sighed, seeing in Reid's face a hint of fear that he had somehow done wrong. It was an expression that better suited a little boy than the brilliant federal agent, but he could understand it.

"You were right to bring this to me, Reid," he assured the prodigy, seeing the relief in his face immediately, "I'll have to talk to him. Go back in now. We just got a call from Emily and JJ, and they should be here any time now."

What he didn't say, and didn't need to say, was that he needed some time to decide what action to take, but there was no question that something needed to be done. He couldn't risk having an agent who could be distracted from what had to be the highest priority, that of his own safety and the safety of the team. Morgan had been reckless on occasion, but this was different. He absolutely would not tolerate a repeat of what had happened to Emily. As he was returning to the conference room, still unsure of what he would do once he got there, he heard a stir near the elevator and turned, catching sight of two forms, one dark, one light, working their way toward him. JJ was a little ahead of her companion, so she reached him first, her blue eyes meeting his only briefly before returning to Emily and the young brunette the other agent was slowly guiding toward him.

"JJ, that her?" he asked softly, and the liaison nodded, running a hand through her blonde hair.

"Yeah, that's her," she replied, her tone conveying a great deal of information. Catching the glance the dark man sent toward the young woman with Emily before looking back down at her, she shook her head.

"She's pretty shaken up, Hotch. The closer we got the quieter she got. Em has been able to keep her calm, pretty much, but I think we're going to have to tread lightly. She… as soon as we came up she looked like she was about to have a panic attack. It may just be that she's been alone in the backwoods for so long she's not used to so many people, or maybe she doesn't like law enforcement, although she seemed fine with Emily and I."

"Anything else I should know?" he whispered quickly, and the blonde looked up at him, knowing what he was really asking. Her eyes told him her answer before she spoke, but they both knew that it needed to be said.

"Just that it'd be a bad idea to assume anything."

He nodded, accepting that at face value, though in the back of his mind the comment made him worry about Morgan all over again. He made an effort to soften his expression as Emily approached with the young author, holding out a hand, which the tall woman took just a little hesitantly. She had a good grip, he noticed, but her hand was shaking slightly and her dark gray eyes were anxious, the fear in them evident despite the glasses she wore.

"I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," he stated quietly, taking in the way the young woman seemed to relax a little at the polite introduction, almost as if she hadn't been sure what to expect. It wasn't as if they were going to throw her in a cell right off, but somehow he got the impression she hadn't been sure of that.

"Keira Datton," she replied, pulling her hand back after a moment, her gray eyes, which were just about on level with his own brown, searched for something as she added, "But you already knew that."

He nodded, gesturing for her to precede him into the conference room, giving Emily a quick look. The dark profiler moved to Keira's other side, a gentle hand on her shoulder. The writer glanced at the other brunette before squaring her shoulders and striding into the conference room, stepping out of the way of the door but not going any further in than she had to. Hotch noticed that her back was to one wall, and he made a mental note to thank Reid or Rossi for thinking to pull the blinds over the glass walls. They didn't need an audience for this, since it was clear Keira was plenty nervous as it was. He looked on as Emily stood at the writer's side, noting with some interest that her body was between the young woman and Morgan. The liaison, of course, stayed close to Emily, as he would have expected. The blonde hadn't been far from her dark companion at any point during this trip, and he didn't expect that to change now. She still had her job, of course, but he had no doubt JJ would perform.

"Keira," the liaison started, right on cue, gesturing to the local agents before going on to the other members of the BAU, "these are Agents Rann Govar, Kyle Tillman, and Frank Derst, from this office, and over there are Agents David Rossi, Derek Morgan, and Dr. Spencer Reid."

The writer took them all in, but it was very clearly she didn't feel safe here. Hotch wondered what it was she was so afraid of, since it seemed highly unlikely anything would happen while they were in an FBI field office. As he watched Keira watch his team, he noticed an odd expression cross her face as she looked at Morgan and Tillman, something between a strained smile and a bolt of intense fear, and she very subtly edged further away from the younger men. She seemed to have no such reaction to the older agents or Reid, and he found that curious. He would have thought she'd be more comfortable with the people closer to her own age.

"I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you all," she remarked into the silence, "but, and no offense to anyone, it's not really considering the circumstances, so could we just get started?"

Aaron appreciated the directness of the sentiment, as did Rossi if his expression were any indication. When Dave glanced over at him he nodded, letting the older man take the lead here so he could stand back and watch the reaction.

"That would be fine," the Italian declared, taking a step forward, "we have a lot of questions for you, Miss Datton. Not the least of which is the most obvious. Did you kill those people?"

To all their surprise, except perhaps Emily and JJ, Keira laughed, though the sound lacked any hint of mirth.

"Right to the point. Good."

"Come on, Datton," Morgan growled, coming forward from the corner he'd been standing in and striding toward the writer, stopping a few steps from Emily, who had taken a small step forward to block his path when a flash of fear had crossed the younger brunette's face, "Don't play games with us. We know you killed them. Just tell us why."

Aaron was about to interrupt, but Keira shook her head, her dark eyes meeting his for just a moment before she turned back to Morgan, her expression carefully neutral.

"If you  _knew_ , we wouldn't be standing here. Agents Prentiss and Jareau would have arrested me, and that would be that. The fact of the matter is this: you assume I killed those people because of my book, which I admit is even somewhat reasonable. But I didn't. I came here because the person who is killing them is someone I know entirely too well."

"Yeah, right," Derek muttered, "shift the blame on someone else and watch us jump through hoops. I bet you came out here just for the thrill of watching us do what you say as you get away with murder."

"'Jump through hoops'?" Datton repeated quietly, her eyes flashing suddenly, "Now I have heard that before, but only once was that comment directed at me."

"Enough games," Morgan interrupted, trying to move closer but again Emily was blocking him, "You're not going to get away with it this time. You may have fooled some people before, but you're our killer. We can all tell you're not really here to help us. Just disrupt the investigation!"

Hotch wasn't sure what happened next. All he knew was that one moment Keira had been facing off against his agent and the next that agent was on the floor, his own gun to his head, the tall writer kneeling on his chest, her expression almost feral. She was either unaware or indifferent to the many guns now being aimed on her, though Hotch felt a certain reluctance, and it was clear the other agents did as well, especially Emily and JJ.

"While I have your attention," Keira growled, glaring down at Derek with blazing gray eyes, "Let me make something very clear. The woman you're looking for would never walk in here. I guarantee she has hands and eyes here. I can practically feel her taint everywhere in this office. If she  _did_  walk in here, it would be to kill you. You wouldn't have time to stand there and tell her how she wasn't going to get away with it. You'd see her, and then you'd be dead."

Morgan wheezed, trying to respond but unable to because the writer was cutting off his air. Keira stayed there a moment longer, then twisted the gun in her hand so the barrel faced her and handed it over to Emily, who was nearest, butt first. The older brunette took it with visible relief, but Keira didn't get up immediately, instead leaning down again for just a moment.

"I don't want to be here, Agent Morgan. I was content to stay in the mountains with my dogs and be left alone with my writing and my memories, but apparently that wasn't in the cards. So you can either get your head out of your ass and learn something or you can arrest me. I really don't care."

She stood then, stepping back to give the big man room to get up. He did, breathing heavily as his deprived lungs sucked in necessary oxygen.

"And if we arrest you," he grumbled breathlessly, "you won't 'help' us, right?"

The writer glared at him again, then just sighed and shook her head.

"Unlike some, or maybe most people, Agent Morgan, I keep my word. I said I would help, and I will, even if it means rotting in jail. As I said, I don't care."

"Why, Ms. Datton?" Rossi asked, holding up a hand to keep Morgan from saying anything else, "You're clearly uncomfortable with the idea, and you could just as easily be arrested for attacking a federal agent."

The brunette shrugged, meeting the Italian's gaze calmly, showing none of the distaste she'd shown with Morgan and to a lesser degree Tillman.

"There are things I'd much rather do than walk into a government office," she agreed quietly, earning a hint of a smile from Dave, then she sobered, her body stiffening somewhat as she added, "but most of them are out of my reach anyway. So here I am."

"I sincerely doubt you're here on a lark," Derst commented from across the table, eyeing the young woman curiously. He clearly hadn't been prepared for the reality of the woman. Hotch hadn't been either, and he'd had some small warning from JJ. The gray eyes traveled to him, and the writer nodded, her left hand tightening around something the Unit Chief realized she'd been holding since she arrived.

"No sir."

"Than why?" Rossi asked again, and this time Keira sighed, her eyes becoming distant.

"I promised someone I cared for a great deal that if a time came when what I knew was needed, I would do everything I could for the people who asked. As I already said, I keep my word."

"Who did you make this promise to?" Reid asked curiously, his copy of  _Fracture_  in his hand, "was it someone you wrote about?"

The writer's expression softened as she looked at the young man and caught sight of the book he held, her left hand clenching convulsively before relaxing again.

"Yes. Shara Marcus."

Reid's reaction, both startled and pleased, surprised Hotch a little, and he turned to him, his eyes asking questions he didn't need to give voice to.

"In the book Shara was the bodyguard hired to protect the main character, Raine, by her mentor, Shain, after Raine's lover tried to kill her for not stopping a murder attempt on her life. In the story, Raine was torn because the man who tried to kill her lover was her step-father, who she had a very complex relationship with. Shain and her partner, who worked for a group known only as the Agency, got Shara and some others to protect Raine, since she was in danger on two fronts. Both her stepfather and her former lover wanted her dead, though for different reasons. In the book, Shara is more than she seems, and because of that she's able to save Raine's life, earning her trust. Though the book is left at something of a cliffhanger, it's made clear that Raine would do almost anything for Shara, including go up against her former lover."

Keira smiled wryly when the FBI agents turned to look at her, blushing a little.

"I guess that about sums it up. In the real world her name was Shamira, a friend of my mentor's partner. She had been a member of a covert Israeli force responsible for the protection of the country from terrorist attacks until she moved to the states, where she went to school and got several degrees in criminal justice and psychology."

From the looks on their faces, even JJ and Emily hadn't known some of that information, Hotch noted. He had also heard the way Keira's voice shifted when she talked about her former bodyguard. It was the most gentle, and most broken, he'd heard her so far.

"Where is she now?" he asked quietly, the pieces coming together in his mind. She looked over at him, her eyes giving away the pain his question caused.

"She's dead. Murdered in front of me, protecting me."

He nodded, the puzzle becoming complete for him. Apparently things weren't so clear to everyone, though.

"You're helping us because you promised a dead woman something?" Morgan asked sarcastically, clearly not believing the young woman, "That's quite a story."

Keira's dark eyes flashed, and for a second Hotch wondered if she were going to attack the skeptical profiler again. She didn't, but he could see the self-restraint it cost her.

"And just when does a promise stop being binding, Agent?" she growled, the knuckles of her left hand whitening around whatever she held. Aaron watched Derek closely, more than a little worried about his uncharacteristic behavior. Emily, who was still standing between the athletic man and the writer, looked in his direction, her brown-black eyes shaded with fear, and that was too much. No member of his team should ever be afraid of another.

"Just because the...woman... was gullible enough to-"

Derek was once again on the floor, though this time Keira didn't even bother with the gun. She had just punched him and down he went, rubbing his jaw. Emily and JJ both had a grip on her, and it was clear she was well prepared to hit him again.

"You can say whatever you want about me, my family, and I'll take it," the author hissed fiercely, her expression so disgusted and hateful that it cut right through whatever was going on in Derek's mind and took him aback.

"You can insult me, arrest me, beat the shit out of me," she continued harshly, "and I won't say a damn thing. But I will not tolerate two things. One of those is any insults to my dogs."

She leaned in, as much as she could with the two agents holding on to her, making very sure she had Derek's attention.

"The other is any word against Shamira. Say whatever you want about me, but when it comes to Shamira, not a word. Not. One. Word."

Morgan nodded, and the two female agents slowly released Keira as she relaxed. The writer held out a hand to Derek, who took it somewhat reluctantly and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Hotch had seen enough, more than enough, really, and he was going to put an end to this now, before it had a chance to escalate. He hadn't realized, even with Reid's warning, just how bad the problem was.

"Agent Morgan, a word."

Derek followed Hotch out, leaving the other agents with Keira. Emily breathed a sigh of relief, more shaken to find herself afraid of one of her teammates than the actual reasons for that fear. Jennifer pressed a hand against her back, pushing her toward the nearest chair. She sank into it gratefully, sighing inwardly when the blonde didn't retreat, instead resting a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, she had to smile at the faintly possessive air about the liaison, as well as her apparent unawareness of how she must have looked to the others.

"Are you all right, Agent Prentiss?" the writer asked worriedly, moving a step closer but not far enough away from the wall that anyone could get behind her. Not that anyone was going to try.

"I will be," the dark agent replied, grateful that her voice remained steady. Keira nodded, letting the matter drop, clearly aware that was what the older woman wanted her to do.

"Ms. Datton," Govar asked after a few minutes of rather uncomfortable silence, "I understand why you wouldn't want the woman who saved your life insulted, but..."

The writer chuckled, a real, honest sound unlike her previous laughter, as he trailed off, his tone conveying that he was trying to find a polite way to ask what he wanted to know. Her grip on the object in her hand loosened, revealing, as Emily had expected, her digital key ring. She pressed something, changing the picture to one of a woman, who she recognized as the very memorable Shamira, on her knees with two dogs, one a big black bear of a dog that had very distinctive husky features, the other a pretty silver gray puppy with blue eyes and dark crescent shaped markings around its eyes and ears.

"Z, or Ze'ev, is the big black fellow. Shal is the little one. She's older now, but anyway... These two are my dogs. Z was Shamira's dog, but they both kind of adopted me. When..." Keira's gaze lost its focus for a second, then she shook her head and added, "When she died, Z passed to me. Shal was her gift to me. She found her at the only animal shelter anywhere near my home in the mountains. Apparently she was about to be put down, since she'd been abandoned and no one would adopt her. She rescued her and brought her home for me. Shal was raised with Z, and ever since Shamira was... killed... they've kept me going. I had to help Z accept that she was never coming back, and Shal too. Those dogs are the only family I've got left, and they're my one connection to Shamira outside my memories. So... No one insults my dogs. They saved my life almost as surely as Shamira did."

When Govar asked to see the pictures more closely, Keira hesitated, as if unsure if she could bear to let go of the small keychain, then smiled apologetically, clutching the little device to her chest.

"I've got some better pictures on my laptop, of them and... and I might even have one of the woman you're looking for. Interested?"

The stocky agent nodded, as did the others, and the writer looked pleased as she pulled out a laptop encased in black leather, a circle open in the top that revealed the white Apple logo. She set it down on the table and sat down for the first time, though she had made a point of moving so she could easily see everyone in the room. When she opened it up, the first thing they saw was a beautiful photograph of the aurora. When she saw all the agents looking at it, she gave them a sheepish look before returning her attention to the computer, going through several folders in rapid succession before selecting several files and opening them.

"Here's the dogs the way they looked as of last week," she remarked, turning the laptop so they could all see. Ze'ev, which Emily's brain supplied as meaning 'wolf,' hadn't changed much, but Shal...

"Wow," JJ mumbled from Emily's side, "Shal got big."

Keira laughed, clicking on another picture, this one a close-up of the silver husky, who had started to look a great deal like a wolf, though she retained her brilliant blue eyes.

"She grew fast. She probably won't big as Z the giant, but she's still growing, so I could be wrong."

"She's a real beauty," Emily murmured, and she could see the compliment touched the young woman, who was so obviously smitten with the animals, "Such distinctive markings... She friendly?"

The younger brunette nodded happily.

"Shamira and I raised her right, and Z helped too. She'd make a fantastic guard dog, since she's very loyal and protective, but she'd also be a good seeing eye dog. She's alert but not hyper-vigilant, and she's smart enough to know when someone is just being friendly or behaving strangely."

"That's unusual for a dog," Tillman observed, clearly trying to make a positive impression on the young woman, "You must have done a really good job with her."

Keira eyed him, then smiled slowly and nodded, apparently having come to some silent truce with the young agent.

"Shal is unusual. Sometimes she acts so much like Shamira that I wonder..."

The brunette trailed off, blushing faintly. Emily watched her in silence, finding the writer a much safer subject than the chaos in her mind.

"Anyway," Keira started again, shifting uncomfortably, "I think I might have a picture of the woman I've told Agents Prentiss and Jareau about, the woman who more likely than not is your killer."

She pulled up a new picture, this one of a Mediterranean woman, her red-streaked brown hair framing her face, her large brown eyes warm and gentle on whoever was behind the camera.

"This is the only picture I've ever had of her," Keira explained, her voice taking on some of the same broken tone she'd had in the plane, "I took it just before things got bad. It was the last time she ever looked at me that way, although I didn't know it at the time."

Reid made an odd sound, something between choking and a cough, and moved rapidly closer, slowing down only when he realized that the writer was looking at him in abject terror. It might have been comical considering Keira was so much taller than Reid and was capable of bringing down a big guy like Morgan in one punch, but it wasn't, since the tall woman's fear was so incredibly real. Emily held up a hand to the prodigy, looking over at the younger brunette and lightly squeezing her arm.

"Keira, it's all right. No one is going to hurt you here."

The writer nodded her understanding but her expression didn't relax, though she did gesture for Reid to come closer, since that was obviously what he'd been intending to do.

"Why do you have Jo's picture?" Morgan's voice demanded before the prodigy could explain anything, and the big man approached with his hands balled into fists, "Don't tell me you're trying to pin this on her!"

The closer he got the more agitated the already visibly upset Keira got, but the brunette seemed to be holding it together. Derek must have crossed some invisible barrier as he got closer because the writer suddenly bolted, not toward the door, but to the nearest corner. JJ was at her side in seconds, followed by Emily, both women familiar enough with the early stages and severity of panic attacks to know that Keira was well on her way to what could become full blown catatonia if she was allowed, or forced, too deep into her own mind.

"Agent Morgan, get back to the hotel," Hotch ordered, his cold voice like a slap to the younger man, who already looked shocked. The dark-haired profiler didn't blame him, since Keira had floored him twice and never responded like this, but she really didn't have any sympathy for him. Emily appreciated the sentiment, but she gave her supervisor a warning look, which he nodded in response to. It was very clear that Keira's attack had been triggered by anger, specifically male anger.

"It's all right, Keira," JJ was whispering, "It's all right. We won't let anyone hurt you."

The dark gray eyes seemed to look right through them, and something in Emily snapped, almost making her turn on her colleague. She knew that look. She'd certainly worn it often enough recently, and it tore her apart her to see it on Keira's face and know exactly what it meant.

"Don't let her get me, not again," the writer mumbled, over and over again, "not again, please not again. I'll shut up... No... Shamira... I promised... Not again... No, no... I promised, I promised..."

That became her mantra, and it was clear from the way she was starting to rock back and forth and become more and more distraught that it wouldn't be long before the emotional maelstrom completely overwhelmed the writer, which would cause her to lash out in some way, most likely injuring herself.

"You promised," Emily agreed quietly, hoping her theory, which she'd just come up with, would pan out as she very cautiously reaching out to take hold of one of Keira's arms, Jennifer taking the other a second later, "You promised Shamira, and you're doing the right thing. You've gotten this far, Keira, because you made that promise. Are you really willing to give that up now?"

"Shamira..."

The single word conveyed a world of agony and despair, and of loss.

"Do it for her," Emily urged gently, "Like you've done so much already. Finish it, before it's too late. You can do it, Keira. You can."

The gray eyes met her darker ones slowly, and she saw the younger woman give a slight nod.

"Okay. Let's get this over with."

Keira nodded again, allowing herself to be helped to a chair by the two female agents, even managing a very weak smile when Tillman handed her a cup of water he'd had the good sense to go get.

"What-"

The writer help up a hand before Rossi could finish the question, taking a shaky sip before speaking in a ragged voice.

"About a month after that picture was taken," and they all knew what picture they meant, "she began 'teaching' me all about the dark side of medicine and law enforcement. When she decided I needed a little extra training, she got some of her favorite 'friends' to help. I can't... can't forget that. And now... Well, let's just say that any time I see a guy that I know is her type, it brings it all back."

"Her 'type'?" Rossi asked curiously, and she nodded, gesturing to the green-eyed Tillman and the handsome Derek.

"She likes guys in their twenties, attractive, intelligent, and while physically she's probably hit the whole spectrum, there are a couple of telling things. Her favorites were the ones who would notice her and want to take care of her. Now that's not to say she's not strong, because she's probably the strongest person I've ever met."

Keira sighed, probably realizing she wasn't making a whole lot of sense.

"Jenna has a will like you wouldn't believe," she explained slowly, saying her former lover's name aloud for the first time since they'd arrived, "and when she's medicated she's wonderful to be around. She makes things easier, makes things make sense. When she's not, she finds people who have a natural desire to protect and care for women like her, beautiful, smart, outwardly fragile women, and she uses them. Most of the time it's men. Only a few times has she done the same thing with women."

"You're telling us that Jo is a psycho who manipulates and uses people?" Morgan asked, aware enough of the thin line he was walking to tread lightly, "It's strange that she said the same sort of thing about you."

The writer shrugged, running a faintly trembling hand through her hair.

"She would," she answered tiredly, "As best I can tell, she's partially unaware of her illness, and while she knows what she's done, she believes she's above that sort of thing, so she needs a scapegoat. I make a good one, since I let her get away with a great deal. Early on I even played a part in her fantasy world, enabling her, because I thought... No... I didn't think. I just reacted to the situation, and I didn't stop and think. So I'm a perfect substitute. Anything bad is my fault, and maybe it is, since I didn't stop it."

Morgan continued to look at her with a great deal of skepticism, and she met his gaze mostly calmly.

"So, you're her new eyes," she murmured suddenly, almost too quietly to be heard, "it makes sense now."

"What?!"

Keira's lean body trembled, but she didn't look away from the dark profiler.

"You met her. You called her Jo. You talked to her, which is why you're completely convinced of my guilt even though prior to today you've never laid eyes on me, never talked to me, never even read my book. I had been wondering if all profilers make such snap judgements, but none of the others had, so..."

She trailed off as Derek started to radiate indignant rage, her gray eyes glazing over. At the touch of Emily's hand, she shook her head, looking back at the other brunette. The profiler tried to give her a reassuring look, finding it hard to stare into eyes that so clearly reflected her own emotions. Her awareness of Jennifer at her back was all that kept her stable, and the blonde probably knew that, which may have been why she started subtly rubbing Emily's shoulders, her body masking the move from the other agents.

"Jo isn't a psychotic serial killer," Morgan argued, though without as much heat as Emily had half-expected, "She knew you, Datton. She said she had proof."

"Her name isn't Jo," Jennifer interrupted, her tone conveying her disgust with her fellow agent, "It's Jenna Odari. Unlike you, Derek, we took the time to do some research, and we got our information from Garcia, so it's not like anyone could have altered it. Jenna's been hospitalized on numerous occasions for suicide attempts, cutting, pill overdoses, and problems with her bipolar disorder, as well as some physical issues including a ruptured disc in her spine. We have the records. There's no disputing them. She has schizoaffective disorder, and it's on record. There's no disputing that."

"And what about our friend here?" He demanded, apparently not willing to let go just yet, despite the glare he was receiving from Hotch. Keira shook her head, impressing Emily by finding the strength to look up at him despite how much he terrified her. Jennifer, seeing that the writer wasn't going to answer, or couldn't, spoke up again.

"She's been in mental facilities twice. Once was in high school for what her counselor called suicidal ideation, depression, and severe stress aggravated by traumatic memories. The second time, the records say she was diagnosed with major depression and acute anxiety with a note about a possible dissociative disorder. Nothing in her records mentioned bipolar disorder, psychosis, or destructive tendencies toward anyone but herself."

Morgan looked between his various colleagues, realization dawning as he realized what he'd done.

"Oh... God..."

"That's enough," Hotch growled, "I'll deal with you later. For now we need to give these agents a profile of who they're looking for, and get copies of her picture to at least some of them."

"No doubt some of them already know her," Keira interjected, startling the agents into looking back at her, "I got quite an earful coming in here. Some of those agents recognized me, which they shouldn't have. Jenna has probably gotten away with killing this long because any time things get tight for her someone tips her off, intentionally or not."

They absorbed the implications of that, then Hotch turned to Derst, who was looking at the writer in shock.

"Frank..."

The senior agent nodded slowly, looking up to meet Hotch's hawk-like gaze.

"There are a few in particular I've noticed behaving not unlike your agent has been. So what do we do?"

The FBI agents debated the problem, Keira fading to the back of their awareness, which struck Emily as impressive when she remembered to check on the younger brunette, considering she'd been sitting in the middle of them the whole time. What they had ended up deciding to do was simple enough. Derst would send out a group of agents to keep an eye on several persons of interest. It would just so happen that the group would include all the people he considered the most dangerous to the integrity of the case. The rest would get a more general profile, just in case they came up with someone besides Jenna Odari who fit the bill, though Emily personally thought that unlikely.

"Okay everyone, listen up!" Derst called across the office as they strode out, fanning out against the wall so they could see everyone in the room, "The BAU is going to present a profile of our suspect, so pay attention!"

The other agents stopped whatever they were doing and pulled out notepads and pens, or PDA's, taking positions around the room and waiting. If the dark-haired profiler hadn't known better, she would have sworn they had practiced for this.

"Okay," Hotch started, "The person we're looking for is most likely a woman between the ages of 24 and 32, Caucasian or Mediterranean, and is probably very attractive, well versed in manipulating others to do what she wants using her body as a lure."

"She'll be intelligent, beautiful, and charismatic," Rossi went on, picking up where the younger man had left off, "And most likely if you met her on the street, you'd never think of her as a dangerous individual, but she is."

Now Reid stepped forward, looking calm and confident as he only was when he was totally in his element.

"She has what is called schizoaffective disorder, which is sometimes mistaken for manic depression, or bipolar disorder, and can also be taken as schizophrenia, and can mimic many of its symptoms. Schizoaffective disorder can usually be treated, or at least controlled, with medication, and has a better overall outlook than schizophrenia, though not as good as the prognosis for bipolar disorder. However, this UnSub has likely been off medication for some time, worsening her delusions and paranoia. What makes this particular case so dangerous is that it is taking the psychosis of extreme manic depression and combining it with the symptoms of schizophrenia, another disorder that makes those who suffer from it prone to hallucinations, paranoia, delusions, and very little ability to distinguish reality and fantasy. In this case, we believe that the UnSub has this disorder as well as an addiction to drugs, most likely opiates, which would worsen the illness and make it harder to treat and make the UnSub more unstable."

Now it was Emily's turn, and she took a deep breath before speaking up, making sure her voice would hold despite the still-present fear that had been triggered first by Morgan, than by the look in Keira's eyes.

"Our biggest problem with this UnSub is going to be the persona she would have needed to create in order to be successful at these crimes. Outwardly she's highly intelligent and creative, and is very empathetic. She makes connections with people, which is highly unusual with her disorder. We believe that she does this by altering her own perception of reality to make it safe for her to venture into the world. She won't have any close relationships, however, and if she does they'll be either short term, or with someone who has learned to accept her version of reality, which would then cause her to want to keep them close for reassurance and security."

"Do not underestimate what this woman is capable of," Hotch concluded, "As Agent Prentiss pointed out, she is highly intelligent and has already brutally murdered a number of people. Do not think for a moment that she will be easily caught, or will allow herself to be taken into custody without a fight. She is the creator of her universe, and fully believes that she has power over everyone in it, the FBI included. It is also possible that she would sooner commit suicide than be taken, so the utmost caution is called for. That's all. Are there any questions?"

"What should we look for if we do run into her on the street? What tells might there be?" one agent asked, and Reid turned his attention to the man.

"If you do talk to her, your first 'tell' will be in her affect... In the way she displays her emotions. It will be inconsistent, like she she'll seem happy than be abruptly angry. Another sign will be if she talks about the murders and tells you she knows who the killer will be. It may sound strange as a topic of conversation but if she knows you're a member of law enforcement she'll probably bring it up."

"Your biggest clues will be her speech and her expressions," Emily interjected, "if her speech becomes extremely rapid and changes from subject to subject, she likely has at least one of the mood disorders we're looking at. And she'll be obsessive about the murders. It might not be immediately noticeable, but it'll be there if you're paying attention."

There was silence over the room then, so Hotch took over again.

"Okay, everyone be careful. Hopefully we can stop this before it gets any further."

The BAU agents retreated to the conference room while Tillman, Govar, and Derst stayed behind to talk with the other LA agents and answer any questions that hadn't been put to the profilers. Keira was waiting for them and held out a slip of paper to Hotch as they walked in.

"Those are the names of Jenna's parents. I thought maybe the Garcia person who dug up all the records could track them down. They're both old and unwell, especially Jenna's father, and it wouldn't take much to kill them, not that it would stop her from making it brutal."

Hotch handed the slip to JJ, who immediately got on her phone, though her eyes seemed to be glued to Emily. The brunette was grateful, since one look in those blue eyes steadied her nerves and made it possible to look Keira in the face, but she knew it had to be taking a toll on her friend.

"Guys, I'm putting Garcia on speaker," Jennifer announced, leaning over and hitting a button on the device resting on the table.

"Okay boys and girls, there are two residences in the Los Angeles area registered to the names JJ gave me. One is a house, the other is an apartment a couple blocks from downtown. I sent the addresses to your PDA's."

"The apartment is probably Jenna's," Keira remarked quietly, "She can't keep a job, so it would make sense that her parents are still supporting her."

"Who's that?!" Garcia demanded, and Emily chuckled as the writer gave the speaker a bemused look.

"Keira Datton. I was brought down from Montana by your agents."

"Oh, so you're the writer!" Garcia exclaimed, "I read your book after a friend recommended it! I loved it, it was so real and so-"

"Garcia," Hotch interrupted warningly, though his voice and his face gave away his amusement. The analyst fell silent, but Keira chuckled.

"I'll make sure you get an autographed copy then as a thank you," she stated, her gray eyes warming. They all heard a little squeal, then Hotch took charge again, bidding Garcia goodbye and hanging up the phone.

"I'm going to ask Agent Derst to send some agents over to the house. Prentiss, JJ, Dave, go to the apartment and check it out. Reid will stay with Ms. Datton and-"

"Sir," the writer interrupted, her tone respectful but determined, "I should go to the apartment."

"That's out of the question," the supervisor answered immediately, "It would be too much of a risk, and you're clearly not stable around this woman."

Emily expected Keira to be offended, but she wasn't. She just looked stubborn.

"I know, sir. I'm well aware that I could be a liability, but here's the thing... I know Jenna better than any of you. I know her tricks and traps, and I know how far she can be pushed before she breaks. The rest of you don't have that experience, and when it comes down to it, one wrong move or word will get your agents killed."

The Unit Chief looked ready to refuse again, but the writer's expression softened, becoming more pleading.

"Sir, if nothing else my presence will distract her from your agents. I'll become her target, not them, so if anything does go wrong they'll have time to react, or just get out. Either way, I have to see this through to the end."

Emily watched the myriad of expressions cross her supervisor's face at lightning speed, finally settling on pained acceptance. Keira must have seen it too, because she rose immediately, straightening her jacket and packing up her laptop. The dark-haired profiler met her boss's gaze, seeing the warnings in them and nodded, accepting what he was asking of her. Similar looks were exchanged with JJ and Rossi, and they headed out to the garage. Hotch watched them go, extremely aware of the risk he was taking. Unfortunately, Keira had been right, but it was hard to accept the reality that she was putting herself out as both bait and shield for a woman who had already killed or helped to kill over a dozen people. When Morgan approached him, he knew what was coming, and this time he wasn't about to be argued with.

"No, Derek," he stated flatly, "I'm already considering putting you on suspension for your behavior earlier. How can I trust you in the field if I can't even trust you in this office?"

"Hotch, I-"

"No, Agent Morgan," he interrupted coldly, glaring at the younger man, "A person is innocent until proven guilty, and you totally disregarded that. You also made an assumption based on something a complete stranger told you in a bookstore! You know full well that we cannot afford to make assumptions like you did! You very nearly sent that woman into a catatonic panic!"

Morgan hung his head, as aware as Hotch that he fully deserved the reprimand, but the other agent didn't look like he was going to back down.

"Hotch, this woman has used explosives before. There's a chance there's some sort of trap at her apartment if this woman is as paranoid as she could be. I'm the only one here with bomb squad experience."

"It comes back to your judgment," Aaron pointed out stoically, "And the fact that not only did you terrify and bully an already frightened  _victim_ , you also became a threat in the eyes of a member of your team."

He moved closer, his voice lowering dangerously.

 "Emily Prentiss has shown remarkable strength, as has JJ, but they have their limits. They have to be able to depend completely on this team to have their backs, and today they couldn't. I doubt they'll forget that any time soon, and I certainly won't. And now you're asking me to put their lives in your hands?"

"Hotch, I screwed up. Everyone knows it. I screwed up again. But this time there's something I can do to make sure the situation doesn't get that bad again. You've gotta let me prove that I can be trusted. This team is my family, and I can't lose them."

"If you do-"

"If I do," Derek interrupted, his eyes searching and desperate, "then it'll be my own fault, and I'll be the first to turn in my badge and gun. If I can't make this right, I don't deserve to be on this team. Please, Hotch."

Aaron considered the younger man for a long time, then walked to the door, turning back with his hand on the latch.

"This is your last chance, Morgan. By all rights I should send you back to Quantico, but I won't. Yet. And if Dave gives an order, you follow it. Is that clear?"

Morgan nodded and bolted out the door Aaron held open for him, not giving his supervisor a chance to change his mind. He ran full tilt down the stairs, hoping his debate with Hotch hadn't been long enough for him to miss the others. He had meant what he said about making things right. He couldn't believe he had made so stupid a mistake again, and he wasn't about to give up without a fight. He knew he had badly damaged his already fragile standing with the team, but he couldn't just sit by and let it happen. When he caught sight of the three agents and Keira getting into an SUV he put on an extra burst of speed.

"Wait up!"

Rossi was the first to turn, giving him an intent stare that the others followed to him.

"Hotch gave you permission to join us?" the Italian asked coolly, and he nodded. Rossi stared at him for a long moment, then gestured to the passenger's side.

"Get in. You'll be navigating."

Morgan let out a breath of relief and got in, getting himself buckled and set with the GPS and printed directions Garcia had faxed over before the others had even climbed into their seats. When he looked back he felt some shame at the sight of Keira tucking herself into the seat furthest from him with Emily at her side. JJ took the middle row, but neither of his colleagues would look at him. Granted they both had something of an excuse, the liaison keeping all her attention was on the dark-haired agent, and Prentiss was reading  _Fracture_ , which she had borrowed from Reid, switching between the book and quiet conversation about some points with the writer. He focused on keeping Rossi on the right streets, not at all willing to compound his shame by getting them lost. He heard the two other agents and Keira talking, but didn't really pay attention until he heard a question he really wanted to know the answer to.

"If she scares you so much, why are you so willing to do this?" Emily asked, and Derek knew the question came as much from the brunette's own experience with fear as professional curiosity. Keira was quiet for a while, and when he glanced back she was looking down at the photo keychain.

 "I have to," she finally explained quietly, "When Shamira died, I knew my last chance at a home and family died with her. I know it might sound dramatic, but... That's how I felt. The only way I can even hope for Shamira's forgiveness is to finish this, like I promised I would. I can't have any peace until this is over and Jenna is taken care of. I don't know if I will after, but..."

"Keira, I'm sure Shamira wouldn't-" JJ started, her blue eyes moving from Keira to Emily before going back to the young writer, but the younger brunette wouldn't let her finish, giving her a sad smile.

"No, she probably wouldn't blame me.  _I_  blame me. You have to understand, she told me she loved me, and I never said it back."

She broke off, turning to look out the window. Morgan couldn't help but notice the haunted look on the liaison's face and the understanding one on Emily's. Something was going on there, and he was starting to think maybe things weren't going as well as he'd hoped they were between the two beautiful women.

"Did you love her? Or were you still in love with Jenna?" Emily asked, her voice incredibly gentle. The dark-haired profiler had to know how painful the question would be, but they were all thinking it. It needed to be asked, and she was obviously the one Keira was most comfortable with. Dark gray eyes peered at all of them before focusing on the brown-black ones next to her,

"I never stopped loving Jen," she answered painfully, her voice giving away the guilt and confusion that had caused, "I still haven't. I don't know if it's possible to  _stop_  loving someone. I think that feeling is always there, it just gets pushed into the background unless something brings it back up."

"And Shamira?"

Again Keira gave the woman at her side a long look before sighing, her eyes pulled back to the photograph.

"It didn't make sense at first," the writer murmured, speaking as if she weren't entirely aware of what she was saying, "I didn't know that love without pain was possible, or love without some desperate need for the other person. I was desperately in love with Jenna, even after everything. I  _needed_  her to love me. So when Shamira came along, I had no idea how I felt. All I knew was that it scared me because it felt  _good_. It didn't hurt, and I had never been in a romantic relationship that wasn't painful. Even my friendships were..."

She trailed off, looking up into dark eyes before turning her piercing gaze on JJ, who was all but fixated on Emily until she realized the writer was watching her.

"I loved Shamira. I fell in love with her, but because it was the good kind of love, healthy love that allowed two people to be themselves both alone and together, I didn't know what it was. I had never experienced anything like that with a woman. The closest I had ever come was my relationship with my father, who loved me for who I was and always made sure I knew it, or my mentor, who totally accepted me and gave me a home when I didn't have one. She and her partner were the only women who made me feel totally safe, but that was different too, because she was more like a mother to me. Shamira... She and I could have been lovers, partners, in every sense, without needing to be anything other than ourselves. I just didn't know it until she was dying in my arms, and I still didn't tell her. I couldn't. And then she was gone, never knowing that she was, if you'll forgive the corny term, my soulmate. How can I forgive myself for just letting that go?"

She paused, her shadowed, pained eyes completely focused on JJ as she asked, "How does anyone forgive herself for giving that up just because of fear?"

Total silence fell over the SUV then. Derek could see that whatever point Keira had been making had hit hard with JJ and Emily both, and it had also touched Rossi, though it didn't seem to have the same significance it did to the two women.

"This is it," he observed as they drove up to an apartment complex that looked like a number of others on the street, but it was their destination. Rossi parked the SUV out front, miraculously finding a parking spot that wasn't blocks away. The older agent motioned for them all to gather around the back of the vehicle, waving their backup over as well.

"We need to go in gently here," he warned, his gaze especially focused on the members of the LAPD he wasn't familiar with, "We don't know what to expect, or if she's even here. No one take any unnecessary risks. Is that clear?"

A chorus of 'yes sir's' answered him, and he nodded, ordering the officers to find the exits and block them while the profilers went up to Jo... Jenna's... apartment. Morgan shook off the momentary name confusion and went in first, looking for even the slightest hint that there was a bomb. Once on the right floor Rossi had them stop again, looking directly at Keira.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she nodded. Morgan looked between them, trying to figure out what he was talking about, then she started moving down the hall while the others stayed behind.

"Wait... You're letting her go in first?!" he hissed, and Rossi nodded.

"She volunteered, and I agreed," the stocky agent replied uncompromisingly, "We want to try to take Odari off guard if she's home, and it was decided that the best way to do that would be to get Keira in there first."

"We don't know for sure that she's not-"

He was glared into silence, but Rossi shrugged after a moment.

"Maybe this is callous of me to say, but on the off chance that she  _is_  our killer, there's a very good chance we'll be finding out one way or another in a minute or two. Either way, she's going in first, and that's safer for all of us."

The other two looked upset by that, but apparently this plan had already been debated and agreed on. Morgan didn't know what to make of it, but he was out of time as Keira raised one leather-clad arm and knocked on the apartment door and Rossi ordered them all to move out of direct eye line of the door so as not to spook Odari. There was a moment of tense silence, then they heard the door open and a soft hiss.

"Keira."

Morgan peeked down the hall, surprised to see Keira leaning almost casually against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest and her expression relaxed, almost as if she were visiting an old friend. A head topped by red-streaked brown head poked out and looked around, then turned to focus completely on the new arrival, its owner's body just visible against the edge of the door.

"Jenna. Long time no see."

"What are you doing here, Keira?" Jo's voice asked, and Morgan was shaken to hear the thread of malice running through it. The writer seemed unfazed by the tone, even smiled at it.

"I was in town and a little bird told me you were living her. I gotta tell ya, Jen, this isn't exactly how I pictured you living. This place is a dump. What happened to that beautiful, airy place near the water you wanted so badly, the place you could walk out to the beach from and surf every day? Mommy and daddy not willing to fork over the cash?"

There was quiet for a minute, then a soft laugh that sounded exactly like the Jo he had met, charming and subtly flirtatious.

"You've grown up, K. You never used to be able to talk to me that way."

Keira chuckled faintly, and if Morgan hadn't seen the terror in her eyes coming up here he would have been completely convinced that the story Keira had told them was complete bullshit. As it was, he wasn't sure what to think.

"It's been an interesting couple years, Jen," the brunette replied easily, reaching out a hand to play with Jenna's hair, "A lot of things have changed."

Jo, or Jenna, gave the younger woman a flirtatious smile, clearly pleased in some way by the dark writer's attitude.

"Why don't you come in, and we can catch up."

Keira nodded, straightening and moving calmly into the apartment. Jenna looked up and down the hall again before closing the door behind them.

"What now?" Derek asked uncertainly, and Rossi gestured to his earpiece, the others already slipping theirs into place. So, they had outfitted Keira. It was strange that he hadn't seen anything on her, but then again that was the point.

"So who is this little bird you mentioned?" Jenna was asking, a hint of malice coming back into her voice. The writer laughed softly at the question, and he could hear the rustle of leather moving.

"Come on, Jenna. You taught me better than to lay all my cards on the table when I don't know what the other player is holding."

"So we're playing a game?"

Again Keira laughed, this time with an added seductive edge.

"Haven't we always, Jenna? You and me, we've been playing cat and mouse for years. Little bit of poker to spice things up, all of that. But now here we are, and we're playing a different game this time."

"And what game might be?" Jenna asked, her voice tense.

"Easy," Emily warned in a soft whisper from JJ's side, though he wasn't sure if Keira could hear or if she'd just needed to get it out.

"Your favorite game," Keira answered, and now there was no mistaking the sexuality in her voice. Morgan was taken off guard by the shift in her attitude. She sounded not unlike Jo had in the bookstore, now that he thought about it.

"I like the sound of that," Jenna answered smoothly, apparently reassured that she was the one in control, for all that Keira was holding on to some power in their interaction. He was starting to appreciate the knife's edge the young woman was walking, having heard how easily Jenna could become defensive and paranoid.

"I just want to know one thing first," Keira whispered, and Derek realized that Jenna must have been right up against her to have heard, "Why is it taking you so long to kill your parents?"

They heard a soft sound they couldn't quite identify at first, then it became clear that Jenna was laughing.

"You have changed," their target responded appreciatively, though there was a note of steel in there, which morphed into dark madness as she went on, "And it's simple. I wanted to make sure those pieces of shit suffered for everything they ever did to me. They'll know every second of pain they inflicted on me before they died. That's the only way to make it right."

"So those others, those were just what, practice?"

Jenna laughed again.

"Well, I had to make sure they wouldn't die too fast. Did you hear about the last one, with the pipe bomb? My 'friends' at the FBI office told me they were trying to keep things under wraps. How pathetic is that, huh?"

"Yeah, my little bird told me about that too," Keira answered steadily, "I heard that you had everyone freaking out about that one."

Jenna laughed, but this time the sound was distinctly malevolent.

"My 'friends' told me they called in this special unit all the way from the east coast. I met one of them this morning, buying your book, ironically enough. He was just so easy. He reminded me of the bomb squad agent who taught me how to make those things. He wouldn't have denied me anything."

There was a pause, then the killer added in a dangerous tone, "About that book, K..."

Morgan expected Keira to be shaken by that, but when she answered she sounded more amused than anything.

"I made you a promise, Jen. I always keep my promises. You should know that. I said I would tell your story, and I did. I even made sure the things the FBI would be too afraid to release were in there, just so everyone would know. Besides, it's not like it's your name in there. Just your work."

That must have placated Jenna, since the next thing they heard was a soft gasp, the kind of sound one made when they were being kissed or touched unexpectedly.

"I do have one other thing to tell you," they heard the tall brunette murmur, her voice a little breathy. Apparently that was a signal for the team, because Rossi started leading them toward the apartment, his hand hovering just over the knob, apparently waiting for something else.

"And what might that be?" Jenna queried in response. Keira took a deep breath, then said calmly. "That little bird I told you about? It's been outside the whole time wanting to meet you."

There was a sound that could only be described as a feral growl, loud enough that they heard it from outside, and there was no more waiting. To Derek's surprise Emily moved first, hitting the locked door with a brutal kick, her gun already in her hand as the wood splintered and gave way. JJ was right behind her, as she always was these days, and the three men didn't take more than a second to follow, guns drawn as they took in the scene. Keira stood between Jenna and them, the blood on her face evidence enough that she had been hit, and hard. The writer waved almost frantically behind them with one hand, the other busy holding a hand wielding a long knife away from her body. It was clear the taller woman was physically stronger than the crazed murderer, but it was equally clear she didn't want to hurt her. Jenna had no such restraint, and the knife was getting closer.

"Don't worry about me!" the writer ordered, needing to use her free hand now. Morgan turned, gaping at what he saw.

"Rossi... We need to get outta here. We need to get out of here  _now_."

The older agent turned too, taking in the wall full of explosives of various types with wide-eyed shock that rapidly transformed into determined fear.

"We need to separate those two and get out of here," the stocky man growled, turning back to the fighting women.

"Rossi, we have no way of knowing how stable those things are," Morgan argued, "It's possible even a small jolt could set them off. We have to evacuate this building."

"LAPD is on it," JJ interrupted hurriedly, her phone still in her hand, her eyes moving rapidly between the fighting women and Emily, who was trying to get a clear shot on Jenna, "And the bomb squad is on its way. The best we can do now is keep her away from those damn things until the building is clear. It's not like we can just leave!"

Derek knew she was right and silently kicked himself for giving the impression that he wanted to cut and run. His focus shifted to the struggling women, trying to find an opening to separate them. Keira had the advantages of height and muscle but she obviously wasn't using everything she had.

 "Damn it, Keira!" Emily cried suddenly as the knife dipped closer, almost reaching Keira's breastbone now, "Just move!"

"She's a murderer!" Jenna hissed violently, her distraction enough for the straining Keira to move the knife back a few inches, "I played my part to protect myself, and now she's using you to kill me to get revenge for telling the truth about her! You're letting yourselves be fooled! She'll kill you too! Don't get in my way!"

Grateful for the few seconds Emily had provided, Derek slipped to one side, hoping the crazed woman would be distracted just long enough. Seeing an opening he lunged, intending to grab Jenna and pull her down, but before he was entirely sure how it happened Keira was in his path, catching him around the waist and shoving him back, causing him to skid across the floor and smack his head into the wall. He shook his head to clear it, just in time to see Jenna yank on the writer's shoulder, causing the already off-balance brunette to turn towards her. In a rapid motion she plunged the knife she held into the taller woman's abdomen, cruelly pushing it in deeper and further up. Keira released a pained cry, but as Jenna shoved the obviously dying writer away from her and she crumbled to her knees, only the silent tears gave away the pain she was in. Her expression was bizarrely serene, giving the whole scene an incredibly surreal feel to it.

"What do you people looked so shocked for?" Jenna demanded as she turned to them, sounding honestly surprised, "It's just taking out a little trash. She betrayed me, and she had to suffer the consequences."

They stared at her, horrified by her complete disregard of human life, even after Keira's numerous warnings on the subject.

"They're shocked because they know," a ragged voice replied, and Jenna whirled, staring at her former lover, who had somehow gotten to her feet, one hand apparently holding the contents of her abdomen in if the amount of blood soaking the floor was any indication.

"Know what?" the murderess demanded, and Keira actually smiled, staggering closer, her face bone white and yet somehow still amused.

"You're only human, Jenna," the brunette gasped weakly, "The one reality you could never face. You're just human, nothing special."

Before Jenna could respond Keira stumbled into her, and oddly enough Jenna seemed to catch her on instinct, just for a moment looking down at the woman with some compassion. It was quickly consumed, but that second was enough for Morgan to start to realize just why Keira had loved the woman so much. All he wanted to do was get the writer and his team out of the building, away from the bombs, and in Keira's case to a hospital, but he didn't dare try to move in again for fear that the writer would either interfere again or that he would do something to set off the bombs.

"K..." Jenna murmured, her expression vacillating rapidly between loving tenderness and cold disgust, her mind apparently unable to decide how to respond to the dying woman.

"I'm sorry," the writer whispered, her gaze lingering on her former lover for a long moment before they shifted, pained, glassy gray eyes meeting terrified, desperate brown-black.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated, and this time the words were clearly meant for Emily, not Jenna. Before anyone knew what she was doing, or could stop her, Keira had yanked the knife out of her body and thrust desperately. Either her aim or luck was very good, because either way Jenna Odari's body convulsed once in reaction before falling, almost in slow motion, to the floor, and if the blood coming from her lips weren't evidence enough, her dead, empty eyes told the whole story. The woman was dead. Emily was the first to react once again, bolting to the falling Keira's side and slowing her fall. Derek scrambled over, helping her lay the writer flat and putting both of his big hands over the stab wound, trying to keep the blood from pouring out but also worried that Jenna had hit the spleen or the bowel, which could very well be fatal. Emily had Keira's face in both hands, forcing the younger brunette to look at her.

"Oh God, please don't die," Emily was whispering, her hands shaking as she helped JJ put a rolled up blanket she had grabbed under her head in hopes they could keep her airway clear. Blood was already starting to trickle from her lips, joining the now dried blood from her earlier bloody nose.

"All I could think," Keira gasped shakily as the bomb squad burst in and immediately started securing the various explosives on the far wall, her voice distant and weak, "was that I couldn't let her do it again."

At first Derek, who was still frantically working on keeping the young woman's body together, wasn't sure what she was talking about, but then he saw the expression on JJ's face and realized he must have missed something while he'd been stunned on the floor. Thankfully his momentary distraction didn't reach his hands, which were barely managing to hold back what felt like a flood. Even with his whole weight being pressed down on the younger woman's abdomen, blood was still pushing its way out.

"Where the hell are those medics?" he demanded of the bomb squad leader, who just shook his head uncertainly. He just kept feeling more helpless and he couldn't stand it. He flashed back to seeing Garcia in that hospital bed, weak, drugged, and terrified, then to the memory of Emily in that bomb shelter being tortured for days on end. Before the images could take over he forced himself to focus on the woman in front of him, afraid he would lose it if he didn't. If he thought of the writer the way he thought of his team, his family, than he might break down, which he couldn't do.

"She's losing too much blood," he murmured, feeling the lean body under his hands starting to wilt and weaken. Keira was dying, and if the paramedics didn't hurry their asses up it would be too late.

"No, no! Hold on, Keira!" Emily commanded, the sound of tears in her voice making him look up. The writer's face was slack, her eyes almost completely closed. She seemed to have passed out, and they couldn't have that. In her condition sleep was extremely dangerous, since she might very well never wake up.

"Oh, no, no, no, we have to get her back," he warned, startled by the fear and pain he felt at the idea of watching Keira die. The brunette had made more of an impression on him than he realized, and now her life was very literally in his hands. Emily was already moving, pulling the blanket into her lap and laying the writer's head on it again, brushing her hair out of the blood on her face.

"Stay with us, Keira," she called urgently, lightly shaking the younger brunette, "Come on, you need to fight!"

Emily kept talking, just hoping something would reach the younger woman. Keira's breathing had slowed to almost nothing when she suddenly took a shaky breath and her eyes opened slowly. Derek couldn't help but notice that it looked like the most difficult thing she could possibly do, and considering how much blood she'd lost, that was entirely possible.

"Shamira... Shami... ra…" the writer whispered, her gaze wandering past all of them to some point in mid-space. On instinct Morgan looked behind him, almost expecting to see the Israeli bodyguard there. He looked back at Keira, who was still staring into the emptiness, her expression both fearful and hopeful, almost hungry.

"I'm so s-sorry," the writer was stuttering, her voice becoming weaker and weaker. Suddenly a beatific smile appeared on her face, giving the wounded, dying woman an almost ethereal air about her. Her left hand came up, reaching toward the same nothingness she was staring into.

"Finally..." she whispered, her voice as impossibly beautiful and happy as her expression. She turned, looking up at Emily with a sweet smile, her trembling fingers reaching up to wipe away a stray tear on the profiler's face.

"It's okay now, Agent Prentiss," she murmured gently, "She's taking me home. I'm going home... It's been so long."

Somehow the dying writer managed to reach into her pocket and pull out that ever-present keychain. Apparently that small movement was all she could manage, because the next thing Derek knew her body was limp under his hands, her eyes starting to slide closed again. The flow of blood was becoming more sluggish, telling him that her heart was slowing down.

"Keira, don't move, don't talk," Emily whispered, as aware of the warning signs as her colleagues and visibly fighting back more tears as the woman slipped further away from them, "Just stay with us."

The gray eyes managed to open again, but they didn't focus on anything in particular.

"I've missed you so much... Shamira..."

With a sigh Keira seemed to collapse in on herself without moving at all, her eyes closing to slits and her hands falling limp at her sides.

"Keira, no! NO!" Emily cried, looking up at JJ reflexively. The blonde went down on her knees, pressing her fingers to the writer's throat and listening for a heartbeat, glancing at Morgan, who shook his head slightly. They couldn't do compressions without pushing out more blood, and from the way the writer's abdomen had hardened it was probably already too late. She was bleeding internally and probably being drowned from the inside. JJ turned back to Emily, and something in her eyes must have told Emily the writer was gone.

"No... Jennifer..."

JJ glanced at Morgan, who nodded, and she gently moved Keira's head out of Emily's lap, laying her carefully on the blanket again. Once that was done the liaison pulled Emily off to one side and just hugged the taller woman tightly, stroking her dark hair when Emily buried her face in her neck. The paramedics arrived a minute later, and Derek moved away as they took over, watching them take Keira's pulse and frantically start pulling out equipment. He turned away, unable to watch any longer and worried about both the bombs and his teammates. The bomb squad had removed most of the bombs already and rendered others safe, but he still didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary.

"Time to go," Rossi called, moving away from the bomb squad leader and the paramedic who had been talking to him, "We can't do anything more here."

Morgan choked back a response, remembering Hotch's warning about following the older man's orders. He met Emily's upset brown eyes, then JJ's blue, getting a nod from both. The paramedic handed him a wet towel, and only then did he remember just how much blood was coating his hands. He watched JJ help Emily to her feet, impressed and concerned as the brunette's professional mask slammed into place and she straightened and accepted a towel of her own, though she didn't shrug off JJ's hand. She looked down at Keira's corpse, then frowned and knelt, picking up the keychain the writer had been holding. At first he was confused, then he realized that there was something else in her hand too, a small white flash drive if he wasn't mistaken.

"What the hell?" he mumbled, wondering when the writer could possibly have had time to load anything onto the thing without them knowing. Emily shrugged, tucking the two objects into her pocket.

"Let's get out of here," she muttered, her voice giving away just a fraction of the physical and mental exhaustion she'd betrayed earlier, "Like Rossi said, we can't do anything more here."

Derek and JJ both nodded, starting to follow Rossi out. Emily hesitated just a second, turning back and watching the paramedics zip both dead women into a body bag. Jennifer's hand brushed her back, making her attention shift to the blonde. She let herself be led out, forcing herself to keep her raging emotions under control just a while longer. Jennifer's gaze was nearly her undoing, seeing right through her tattered defenses, but that same understanding gave her the strength to step out into the bright Los Angeles day and join their waiting colleagues at the SUV. The other agents had apparently called ahead already, for which the brunette was grateful.

"Hotch said to get our things from the hotel while he finalizes things at the field office and they'll meet us at the airstrip," Rossi explained. To Emily's surprise, Jennifer frowned and stepped away, and for just a moment she had the inexplicable fear that the blonde was going to leave, but she didn't, of course. She moved back within arm's reach immediately, lightly brushing the taller agent's back with her fingertips. The touch made Emily shiver despite everything, and the faint twinkle in the blue eyes told her it had been intentional. Despite herself the profiler smiled faintly, appreciating the attempt.

"Hotch, can you make sure someone gets Keira Datton's bag? I'd like to make sure her things get into good hands. It's the least we can do. Garcia can track down any next of kin or will she may have had."

The supervisor must have agreed, since the blonde bade him goodbye and hung up, giving Emily a weak smile. The older woman sighed, giving her companion's arm a gentle squeeze before she climbed into the back of the SUV, leaning her head against the back of the seat and closing her eyes. A warm body followed her in and a very familiar hand gently took hers, almost breaking her resolve not to cry again, at least until she wasn't with the team and in front of a bunch of cops and paramedics. Her only alternative was retreating into a numb haze, so that was exactly what she did, unable to cope with her whirlwind emotions just yet. Packing was done without any thought, and the drive to the airport was quiet, all four agents stressed from the chaos and ending of the case. Emily was grateful, unsure she could handle chatter. Hotch and Reid were waiting at the jet with Tillman, Govar, and Derst, who had apparently come to say goodbye. Their departure was friendly enough, but Emily was glad when they were all on the plane and in the air heading towards home. When JJ suddenly suggested that they find out what was on the flash drive she'd recovered the brunette almost balked, but the expression in the gentle blue eyes urged her to comply, so she did. She knew it would probably be hard, but maybe it would be for the better. They plugged the little device into Keira's laptop and circled around it as JJ brought up the video file, none of them surprised to see the gray-eyed writer's image come up.

"If you're watching this, I got myself killed," she started, sounding a touch self-deprecating, "and I'm sorry. I didn't want it to come to that if it could be avoided, but I think it might have been inevitable."

The young woman sighed, looking into the camera with an expression of gentle understanding on her face.

"I'm grateful to all of you for what you did. Yes, even you, Agent Morgan."

They all glanced at the dark man, who seemed to be blushing and suddenly uncomfortable. Keira's face sobered, drawing their attention back to the screen.

"You have to understand something, Agents, and this is important. What Agent Morgan did today was not anything new. Jenna has always had a talent for bringing out the worst in people, and I hope you all realize that it is no reflection on your colleague that it happened to him. Just looking around the office I can see her hand everywhere. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It backfired, though. You see, had it not happened to a member of your team, you might not have ever understood what Jenna can do to people, good, decent people who only want to do good things."

She sighed, shaking her head.

"I regret any friction this may have caused. Perhaps this is indelicate, but I had noticed that there was some tension amongst your team, and if I could see it, so could Jenna. She used it, and I'm sorry. But enough of that. I've said all I need to say on that, and I think the rest can be handled amongst yourselves. I only have a few minutes, and I find that there's a lot to say. So I'll stick with the basics."

The writer straightened visibly, as if bracing herself.

"A couple of small things first. In my bag is the original manuscript for  _Fracture_. I've signed it, and I'd like for it to be given to Agent Garcia if it isn't any trouble. Also in there is another manuscript,  _Fracture_ 's sequel, I'd like it if Agent Prentiss would take it. I think she might get the most out of it. It's already been edited and will be published in the near future, and I'd like for Agents Reid and Garcia to have the two advance copies I was sent. They're in my home, signed since I had planned to give them away. I feel that the people who gave me my life back should have the only original and the very first editions. I know it may sound odd to say that considering I'm dead, but I'm sure it'll make sense."

Keira sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"On my computer is the vast majority of the writing I've done in the past ten years. I leave it up to you to decide what to do with it, since I have no family left alive and my mentor has passed away. While my writing has always been my life's work,  _Fracture_  and its sequel were the stories that I most desperately needed to tell, and I've done so."

The brunette shook her head, leaning back a bit in her chair, revealing that she'd made the recording in the conference room, probably while they had been giving the profile.

"The next thing is probably the most important, at least to me. My house is at your disposal, to use or not as you please. My father would have enjoyed meeting you people, and there's no doubt in my mind he would love for his home to be used as a retreat, or even sold as long as the money went to a good cause. What I'm concerned with is my dogs. Ze'ev and Shal are beautiful, intelligent animals, and they deserve good homes. They've already lost Shamira, and now me as well. If there's any chance your team could find them a place, I'd be forever grateful. They're staying with a hunter who lives about a mile north of my cabin."

Keira sighed again, giving the camera a faint smile.

"And lastly, I updated my will. In the event of my death, the royalties from my novels, whatever they might be, are to go mostly to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I do admit that I donated a substantial sum to the some animal shelters and reserves, but I hope your team will understand that animals have made my life willing. I'm hoping that what I've done will help your team in some small way, even if it is as simple as providing a fund for pens and other office supplies. By the time you watch this, the changes should have already taken effect. Gotta love the information age."

The writer glanced over her shoulder, probably in response to some sound, then looked back at the camera, smiling wryly.

"Looks like I'm out of time, but I hope you all realize I was proud to know you all and help in whatever way I could. My death was my choice, I'm sure. I've always known it would be, really. So please, no blame games, no guilt, no regrets. It was time. I left behind what matters, and it was enough. It was worth everything, and I am content with that. I wish you all well, and thank you again. Good bye, and I wish you well in all you do. Your team is truly made up of the best this world has to offer. You've restored my faith in humanity, and in heroes."

The screen went blank, leaving the profilers to look at each other in silence for a long moment. Emily was pleased to notice that Jennifer's eyes were distinctly moist, and even the male agents had been visibly moved. Hotch and Rossi were the least obviously affected, but that had more to do with their age and experience than their actual emotional response. By unspoken agreement Morgan pulled out his phone and called Garcia.

"Baby girl, I need you to look into something for me," he started, and they could all hear the analyst tapping on her keyboard to bring up her various search programs.

"Go," she answered, and the dark man smiled affectionately, an expression echoed by JJ.

"I want you to look up Keira Datton's financials. We just found out something interesting and we had a few questions left over."

Garcia murmured something in agreement, obviously aware of at least part of what had gone down.

"Well, her bank account shows an increasingly large influx of money from her publisher marked as book royalties, but relatively few withdrawals in the last couple years, meaning there was a pretty substantial sum of cash in there. From the looks of it, she never really checked it, so she might not have even known how much she had. We're talking about millions here, some of it inheritance money, but mostly book payments and a few other writing related things, like seminars and some poetry. There are some- Wow."

They could hear keys being hit with some force, then, "Let's make that double wow. There are two really big changes here, and they were made just today. The first routes about two million dollars split evenly into three parts to three separate animal welfare groups. The ASPCA, a husky rescue and adoption program, and a large wildlife preserve."

"What about the second change?" Rossi asked when the tapping of the keyboard went on too long without Garcia's voice overriding it.

"Well... Unless I'm reading this wrong... The remainder of her rather large estate has been donated to the FBI, specifically the BAU, including her home and any royalties on her new book. Wait... New book? What new book? I haven't heard-"

"She willed the manuscript of the new book to Emily," Jennifer interrupted, giving her dark friend a gentle smile, "and just so you don't feel left out, Garcia, she willed the manuscript of  _Fracture_  to you, and even signed it. I think she was really touched you were so interested in her book."

There was a long pause, then, "You mean... Her own personal manuscript? The original of the book?"

"Yeah," Morgan replied with a smile, "and she apparently has two signed copies of the new book, and one of those is just waiting for you up in Montana."

They left Garcia with that, Morgan hanging up the phone and looking between his colleagues.

"That video wasn't what I expected," he admitted quietly, then added a touch sheepishly, "Not that I had any idea what to expect. But... Millions of dollars to a bunch of people she barely knows?"

"It's funny," Rossi remarked, "but I think she knew us well enough. Look at what she said, Agent Morgan, especially about you."

"It's like she saw through all of us," Emily added, "and in the end gave us whatever she could that she knew would help. That message was as much damage control for  _us_  as anything else."

Hotch nodded, looking over at Morgan.

"You're still not off the hook," the supervisor warned, then softened his tone a little as he added, "but I have to agree with Keira. You were not entirely in control of your actions. I'm not happy that our killer was manipulating my team, but she had obviously become very skilled at it. On the other hand, if I ever see you behaving that way again, I will fire you."

The athletic agent nodded, looking down at his big hands. Emily followed the look, tensing as her memory provided a picture of those same hands covered in blood. She shook her head, almost afraid to look down at her own for fear of what she'd see then. When Jennifer's hand slid into hers she actually jumped slightly and looked down on instinct, almost surprised that there was no blood there, just skin meeting skin.

"And Derek," she started slowly, finding the words as she went along, words that had been inspired by the look and feel of her beloved friend's hand in hers, "I hate how you acted today, but if Keira can forgive your behavior, I can too."

That startled the dark man, and he looked down at her uncertainly.

"Emily, I don't deserve-"

"No, you don't," she interrupted honestly, "but I don't want to be upset with a member of this team any longer than I have reason to be. So just consider the whole thing done with."

That closed the matter for discussion and Emily got up, feeling the need to get away from the circle of people she considered her family. The best she could do was sit down in a corner seat with her back to them, unsurprised when quiet conversation picked up a moment later. She was also unsurprised when Jennifer sat down next to her. There was a part of her mind that desperately wanted to just be alone so she could retreat into herself, but it was overruled by the much larger part that just wanted to be held. It was a new experience for her to have her mind be comfortable with the idea of someone knowing her, really knowing her, right down to her weaknesses and vulnerabilities, but she was rapidly getting to that point with Jennifer. Since she wasn't about to just bury herself in Jennifer's arms in front of the next best thing she settled for promising herself that she'd give in later and turned to her friend, fixing her with an intent gaze.

"Are you okay?"

The liaison looked prepared to plaster on one of those fake smiles of hers, the ones that came so naturally, but something, maybe their conversation the previous night- was it only the previous night? It seemed like an eternity ago- stopped her, and instead her blue eyes met Emily's brown-black without the feared reserve they usually had when JJ was about to brush off her own emotions yet again.

"No," the blonde answered frankly, giving her a weak, but honest, smile, "but I think I will be. I think she knew leaving that message would start the healing process. It's still a process though, like everything else."

The brunette nodded, wanting to say a lot of things she couldn't yet. Instead, she found something she could say without much fear of breaking down. She knew she was doing what she had warned JJ about, but she also knew she would correct the problem once it was safe to do so.

"I'm sorry, Jennifer. I knew this had to be hard on you."

Jennifer looked at her for a long moment, probably as aware as she was that she was holding back, but like Emily herself, she knew and understood the reasons for it and allowed it.

"It was," the press liaison agreed quietly, "She was a good kid who got caught up in some really bad things, and she deserved better."

Emily nodded, looking down at their hands, which had somehow twined together without either of them knowing.

"You know, the strangest thing about that message was the words she used," Jennifer went on, "because we were talking about that last night. She said what she had left behind made everything worth it, and you had been wondering if it ever balances out. Apparently Keira thought so."

She looked up, meeting her friend's blue eyes. She had noticed that too, and had wondered how the writer had known exactly what to say.

"I think she saw something familiar in both of us," she decided aloud, wondering if JJ would pick up on all the things she wasn't able to say yet, "I mean, it was obvious she felt we had some common ground, but her message made such a point of making it clear that she thought her death was worth her life. She had a horribly painful life, Jennifer, but for all that she died happy. Even if it was a hallucination brought on by blood loss, the last thing she saw was the woman she loved coming to bring her home."

She paused, needing to look up into those crystal blue eyes as she added, "I know that if I were dying the last thing I'd want to see is your smiling face."

Jennifer blushed, her eyes glittering suspiciously as the blonde squeezed her hand tightly, the clasp conveying all the emotion the liaison couldn't put into words. Emily smiled, relieved to see a positive response, then she went on with her point, pleased enormously as her friend scooted impossibly closer and rested her head on Emily's shoulder, giving in to her obvious exhaustion and need for comfort. It made the brunette happy to be able to provide that comfort, since it was so often the other way around these days.

"She got a happier ending than she expected, but you know, she went into that apartment knowing she probably wouldn't come out alive. She didn't know that the last thing she would see would be Shamira, and she still believed it was all worth it. Somehow the books she left behind were enough for her."

"Don't forget the dogs," JJ corrected, her voice taking on a gently teasing quality that made Emily smile.

"That's right," she admitted, feeling some of the tension in both their bodies start to melt away as they quietly laughed together, "Can't forget the dogs."

She hesitated a moment, unsure if Jennifer would go along with the idea that had just popped into her head.

"Jennifer?" she asked slowly, feeling the blonde raise her head slightly at the uncertainty in her voice.

"What is it, Em?" the liaison asked, audibly worried about whatever was making her act the way she was. Emily sighed inwardly, peering into the very near, blue eyes.

"After we've wrapped up this case and kind of... Decompressed... Would you be willing to go back to Montana with me and see what we can arrange for Shal and Ze'ev?"

Jennifer stiffened, her eyes widening. Emily sighed, this time out loud, and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she murmured immediately, turning to look out at the passing sky, "I shouldn't have asked. I know how you feel about dogs. I'll ask Morgan, or maybe even Rossi. I heard he hunts with dogs, so-"

"Emily."

"I mean," the brunette went on, barely even registering the sound of her name, "Morgan just seems like the type who would be good with animals, and if Rossi does have hunting dogs he'll probably have some sense of how to handle Ze'ev and Shal..."

"I'll go with you, Emily."

"And I like dogs and so if you don't- wait. What?" she asked, broken out of her uncharacteristic rambling by JJ's voice and the soft hand that brought her face around to meet warm blue eyes, which were currently watching her with more than a little tender amusement.

"Of course I'll go up there with you, Emily," Jennifer explained, only a hint of fear reaching her face as she added, "I might have issues with dogs, but the way Keira described hers I think it'll be okay. You'll protect me, right?"

That last was an attempt at levity, but Emily could see that behind the humor was a need for reassurance, which she could easily give. She doubted the writer's dogs would be an issue, but she would protect Jennifer with her life.

"Always," she whispered gently, letting all her sincerity show on her face. The look took the blonde off guard for a second, then she smiled slowly and sighed, resting her head on Emily's shoulder again.

"Same here."

Emily just smiled wearily and held onto her friend as the world slipped away beneath them. It could all damn well wait.

**Date and Time: September 30, 2007, 20:21**

**Location: Club Near FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia**

Morgan navigated the crowd with ease, holding the precious drinks up above the various threats to their safety until he managed to reach the table his colleagues were at, squeezing in next to Garcia and passing out the bottles of beer. Even Reid had agreed to a drink, which said a lot about the strain their latest case had put on everyone. The young profiler didn't drink often.

"Here's to family," he intoned, raising his bottle in the universal sign for a toast. The others murmured agreement and tapped the bottle with their own before taking a long sip. A little too long in Reid's case, leaving the younger man sputtering a little while the rest of the team tried not to laugh too hard. Emily helpfully handed him a napkin to mop up the beer that had escaped his mouth, and Derek was grateful to see the beginnings of one of her goofy smiles starting to form. JJ was sitting next the brunette, her arm draped across the back of the booth and coincidentally around Emily's shoulders, but neither woman seemed to have noticed. Garcia had, because she caught him looking and winked, giving him a flirty smile, to which he grinned. His family was starting to heal from the wounds left by the case in Arizona, and, if only for a little while, the memories of the terror inflicted on the women's college faded into the background. That was exactly why he had suggested this little outing, and why he was going to pay for all their drinks, giving them one last thing to worry about.

"Agents, here's the wings you ordered," their friendly server announced, setting down the huge platter of wings and a smaller plate with various dips. He grinned, handing out the plates and dug in, knowing that would be a signal for his friends to do the same. As they all focused on the food, he considered them, realizing that family meant something different to every one of them, but when it came down to it, he was the only one who had a family that absolutely supported him, and that he could go to with anything. Reid only had his schizophrenic mother, Garcia's parents were dead, Emily's relationship with her family was distant at the very best and largely antagonistic the majority of the time, and JJ's family didn't understand her. They were all islands, depending on the team for the support he had so unconditionally at home. What most amazed him at the end of the day was that not one of them would ever begrudge him that, even though they would have a right to if anyone did. Every one of them had been hurt, abandoned, and misunderstood, and while it was true that he had experienced all those things, it had never been because of his family.

"Hey Derek, what's on your mind?" JJ asked, giving him a curious look that was mirrored by the others. He realized he must have been lost in thought long enough for it to be conspicuous and grinned to cover it. Tonight wasn't about him. It was about them.

"I was just thinking that I am one lucky man," he replied, giving the women at the table a wink, "Here I am with three gorgeous women, and only one other guy. Those are good odds."

JJ rolled her eyes and Emily laughed, taking another pull of her beer. Garcia was laughing too, but he knew all three of them appreciated the compliment, if not exactly the delivery.

"Come on, let's get out on the floor," he declared once the platter of wings had been cleared, pulling the willing tech goddess up with him and fixing Reid with an implacable stare as he added, "And that means you too, kid."

Reid might have been able to say no to him, but Garcia wasn't having it, and as always the analyst got her way as the genius was practically yanked out of the booth. They didn't couple off, instead dancing as a group, taking up their own little section of the floor. More than once he caught their youngest colleague trying to slip away, but he never got far. Taking matters into his own hands, he enlisted Garcia to help him teach Reid a few moves, silently cracking up at the picture they must have made to the watching blonde and brunette, who were making no effort to contain their amusement. Finally they all went back to their table, danced and laughed out. He gestured to their server, who brought over another round of drinks, which the others tried to refuse or offer to pay for it, but he was having none of it.

"Here's to getting out on the town!" he declared, and the others laughed as they toasted along with him, the mood much more relaxed now than it had been when they'd first arrived. In fact, the lovely Agent Jareau may have overdone it a bit, since she seemed to be nodding off a bit on Emily's shoulder. The older agent, who he realized hadn't even finished her first bottle, was smiling down at the blonde, her expression probably a little more open than she realized. He wished he had a camera, then he noticed Garcia sneak something into her purse and grinned. He'd get the pictures later. Reid was starting to look a little ragged around the edges as well after another half hour, so he decided they'd better call it a night. Fortunately most of the team had either carpooled or taken a cab here, so driving arrangements wouldn't be too hard, and with the exceptions of the lightweight that was Reid and the probably wrung out JJ no one was more than a little buzzed. He got up to settle the tab, but as he turned back he noticed that a trio of guys were at the table, and from the look on the now wide-awake JJ and Reid's faces, and the cold one on Emily's, they weren't exactly being polite. He couldn't see Garcia's face from here, but she had retreated a bit from the edge of the table and she seemed tense. He slipped back as fast as he good, not wanting things to get ugly.

"Come on, girls. We just want to dance," one of them was saying as he got into earshot, but his voice and the grins on his friend's faces told a very different story. Emily saw him coming over the guys' shoulders and nodded slightly, affirming that this could become trouble, her dark eyes ice cold as she slid past JJ and stood up, forcing the three guys back a step. They grinned at her, apparently thinking she was accepting, and the big talker reached out to grab her arm. That worried him, because they would have to be incredibly drunk, or incredibly stupid, to take Emily's expression as welcoming. Probably both.

"My friends and I were just leaving," she stated warningly, brushing a meaty hand off her arm and staring down the much bulkier drunks, "And I think you three should probably be doing the same."

"Emily..." he heard JJ whisper worriedly as he slid up behind the three men, tapping the biggest one on the shoulder. When he turned Morgan took advantage of the gap it created and pressed past them, taking his place at Emily's side, looking over his teammates before focusing his attention on Garcia, who looked the most nervous. Penelope was scared, he knew, and while she had a fiery spirit, the reality was that she didn't like confrontation, especially when it threatened her family.

"You okay, Baby Girl?" he asked quietly, and she nodded, still looking tense but obviously relieved that he'd returned. He turned back to the drunks, glaring darkly at them. He knew that in theory if it came to a fight two against three weren't the best odds, but the three idiots were drunk and if he had to have someone on his side in a brawl, Emily Prentiss was someone he'd bet on every time. He had seen her fight. Hell, he'd fought her, and she could kick his ass, so he wasn't worried about the odds. He just did not want what had been a very successful outing to end with a bar brawl.

"Hey, man, we were here first," the big guy grumbled, moving to shove him out of the way. Derek just caught his arm, squeezing it hard enough to cause pain, hoping that would get through the alcoholic fog.

 "These are my friends," he corrected coldly, "and they have better things to deal with than you. So just walk away.  _Now_."

The big man tried to free his arm, obviously intending to anything but walk away, but Morgan wasn't having it. Another one moved in, but Emily blocked his path, looking tiny next to the brawny, shadowed figures.

"I suggest you do what he says," she warned dangerously, her free hand flashing out to stop JJ when the blonde started to get up, clearly intending to intervene, "We don't want any trouble. We came to have a good time, and we would prefer to leave peacefully."

Before things could get worse, two brawny bouncers came over, looking between the three troublemakers and the agents.

"Everything all right here?" one asked, a rugged, brown-haired former linebacker that knew them from their other visits here and always made a point of making sure no one bothered them.

"I think so, Jim," Emily replied quietly, still focused completely on the three drunks, "We were just getting ready to call it a night."

"Looks like you three are too," the other bouncer growled, this one a grizzled retired Marine who also co-owned the bar. He hated anyone causing problems in his bar, and he dealt harshly with anyone who started fights, which was why there were usually none. No one wanted to get on his bad side. The drunks backed off a few steps, looking between the bouncers and the FBI agents, muttering something about just wanting to dance. Neither Emily nor Derek particularly cared what they had to say and gestured for the others to hurry up and join them. Morgan wrapped a protective arm around Garcia, leading the way out but glancing back to make sure his colleagues were close by, so he was the first one to see the biggest one trip Emily, making her stumble and knock her head against the corner of a booth.

"Prentiss, duck!" he yelled, seeing the man's big fist pull back to strike the brunette, but before either agent could react the guy howled in pain and went down on one knee, revealing JJ behind him, blue eyes blazing. One of his friends started to move toward JJ, but a hand tapped him on the back and he turned, only to find a fist coming right at his face. He went down too, a bruise forming around his jaw, and Morgan thought he just might fall over himself, because the owner of that fist was none other than Spencer Reid, who was currently wincing and holding his hand. He stared, unable to reconcile the facts in front of his face, then Emily started laughing, her hand on her forehead where the corner had cut her.

"Nice shot, Reid," she observed, ushering the two younger agents toward Morgan and Garcia. Once they were outside Jamie, the former Marine, met them there, apologizing profusely, especially to Emily, who had gotten injured.

"It's okay," Emily assured him, "it's just a scratch. Think we could get some ice for Reid's hand before the swelling gets too bad, though?"

Jamie nodded, rushing back inside to comply. The brunette smiled affectionately at JJ, who insisted on checking the cut on her head while Garcia clucked over Reid's bruised hand, turning it this way and that to get a better view while the hero of the moment complained all the while. Derek laughed, giving the hand a look himself.

"That really was a nice shot, kid," he commented, clapping the scrawny man on the back, "You did good."

Reid blushed, his embarrassment distracting him from the pain as Jamie returned with the ice, as well as an alcohol wipe and a band-aid for Emily. Trusting Reid to Garcia's 'tender' mercy, he approached the brunette, who was currently being forced to sit on a stool that the bouncers usually used while JJ tended to the small cut.

"You okay, Prentiss?" he asked, earning a mildly annoyed look that transformed into amusement a moment later.

"I'm fine," she replied, gesturing to the woman tending her, "She's making it seem like a bigger deal than it is. I think it's so people forget that she brought down the biggest one of the bunch."

Morgan turned his full attention on JJ, who was blushing darkly now.

"Shut up, Prentiss," she mumbled, making the dark profilers laugh.

"That really was something," he remarked, then asked curiously, "but how did you do it? That guy was huge!"

JJ's blush deepened, making her fair hair and blue eyes stand out even more.

"I kicked out his knees," she explained in an embarrassed mutter, "I just didn't want him taking pot shots at Emily, or anyone else for that matter. It's no big deal."

He would have objected, but Emily beat him to it, giving the blonde press liaison a long, intense stare.

"JJ, he could have really hurt me, and you stopped him, despite the risk to yourself. It is a big deal, and I'm very grateful."

The blonde's blush became impossibly worse and upon seeing the looks being turned her way by all her teammates she buried her face in Emily's shirt, which was the nearest thing she had to hide behind. The brunette chuckled, looking back up at Morgan even as she wrapped a friendly arm around JJ, gently rubbing the embarrassed woman's back.

"If you want to get Garcia home, I'll give our two heroes a ride."

He agreed with the plan, since he had wanted to spend a little more time with Penelope anyway. He didn't want her thinking he was neglecting her, after all. That could be very dangerous for him. Emily collected Reid and walked to her car, her arm still wrapped around JJ. Derek grinned at the picture they made together, unsurprised to find Garcia once again slipping her little pen camera back into her purse.

"You're going to be sending me those pictures, aren't you?" he asked teasingly, though they both knew he meant the question seriously. The need to keep these sorts of moments alive, if only in photos and snapshots, was something they shared.

"Well, I don't know," she shot back coyly, "What do I get out of it?"

He laughed, hugging her tightly to him as he headed for his car, whispering in her ear just what kinds of favors he would grant in return for those pictures. It was a game they played, and apparently this time it was his turn. As Garcia's laughter and little sounds of excited encouragement filled first the parking lot, then his car, he found some of the tension he'd been carrying around start to unravel. His team, his family, was safe for tonight, and he was in good company. For a little while, he could pretend all was well, and that was exactly what he did, laughing right along with Penelope.


	9. Avoidance

**_Avoidance_ : **Behavior meant to avoid conflict or other unpleasant stimuli. Avoidance behavior can be as relatively simple as changing or avoiding a subject in conversation, and can go as far as a complete break from reality and/or functional thought. In the short term avoidance behavior can be beneficial as a defense mechanism, but it can become dysfunctional if continued.

**Date and Time: March 14, 2008, 17:03**

**Location: BAU Bullpen, Aaron Hotchner's Office**

A quick rap on his door brought Hotch's attention to the man standing there, and he closed the file he had been reading, setting it down as he waved the newcomer in. He watched as Agent Morgan slid into a chair, his body language and expression betraying just how nervous and upset he really was. The younger man had been tense for days, and Hotch had decided he needed to talk to the other agent and finally settle the issue that had been gnawing at him for just as long.

"This is about the LA case."

It wasn't a question, but Aaron nodded anyway, leaning forward slightly and resting his hands on the desk in front of him.

"I've been reading some reports Agent Derst sent me on the agents who were passing information to Jenna Odari. It's disturbing enough that it was happening at all, but the numbers make it even worse. And I have to add you to that list."

Morgan bowed his head, apparently unable to look his supervisor in the eye.

"I can't believe I screwed up  _again_ ," he muttered unhappily, his hands clenching tightly.

"I'm not entirely convinced you did," Hotch answered, shaking his head when the younger man looked up sharply, "but I need to know what you were thinking. I know we have to make snap judgements on this job, but we also need to be able to alter those opinions very rapidly. You didn't do that."

Derek sighed, looking down at his hands again.

"I don't know, Hotch. There was something about this case that really got me. I mean... Maybe it was the way that poor woman was murdered. I have never seen anything like that. The kind of person who could do that..."

He trailed off, and in his eyes Hotch could see the same horror that had been there the first day, and the emotions reflected his own. This was one case that would haunt them all for a long time. He was actually grateful Gideon hadn't been there.

"I guess... I guess I just really wanted to catch the UnSub before he, or she, could do it again," Morgan was saying, pulling him out of his dark thoughts, "As soon as we had a feasible suspect, it was like that just had to be it. Now I understand what happened with Gideon back in Arizona. He needed for the profile to be right, and for Tubbs to be our UnSub, because he had devoted all his energy to Tubbs and he had nothing left for any other possibilities. As soon as Prentiss and Reid started talking about the book, I  _knew_  that Keira Datton was our killer. I was so sure... and so I stopped thinking. I focused so much energy on proving that I was right that I didn't even allow myself to consider that my assumption was wrong."

The Unit Chief nodded slowly, noting that this case had brought Jason Gideon back to the fore of both their minds. There were similarities, he knew, but at the same time there were some key differences. The most important, at least in terms of this conversation, was that Gideon  _had_  doubted himself. That had been part of the problem. Morgan, though, had just shut out anything that didn't mesh with what he had decided was the  _truth_. And as soon as he had something to reinforce that truth...

"Jenna Odari."

Morgan started visibly at the name, his dark eyes filling with shame and anger. His hands clenched into fists, and Aaron could see that it was taking an effort for the younger man not to punch something, and that something could very well be himself. Derek hadn't forgiven himself for what had happened, and as well he shouldn't. The reason for this discussion was for Hotch to decide if he could trust Agent Morgan's judgement and if there was a need for him to suspend the younger man.

"Hotch..."

"Agent Morgan," he interrupted a touch harshly, needing to cut through his agent's shame and doubt to get to the bottom of the situation, "what happened with Jenna Odari?"

Morgan closed his eyes, letting out a long breath and leaning back in the chair, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, his gaze contemplative when he managed to look back at his supervisor, "I think it's like Reid said... She told me what I wanted to hear. Everything she said just reinforced my belief that Keira Datton was our UnSub."

"But why did you believe her?" Hotch demanded, fighting back his own anger, well aware that he needed Morgan to be straight with him, not defensive but unable to help his harsh tone, "Why did you put aside all your training and trust her rather than your team? Why did you treat Keira Datton worse than you would a convicted murderer even after your colleagues determined that she didn't fit the profile? Why didn't you trust yourself?"

Derek flinched under the barrage of questions, bowing his head and looking as if he might have been near tears.

"I don't know!" he cried painfully, shaking his head almost violently, "I don't know, Hotch! I saw that kid and I saw red. She just... I..."

He stopped suddenly, fixing Hotch with an intense stare as understanding crossed his handsome face.

"I looked at her," Derek started slowly, speaking very deliberately as if he were putting the words together in his mind as he said them, "and I saw a murderer. I saw those crime scene photos and the autopsy reports, and I heard Reid describing her book and how accurate it was, and I just... saw red. I wanted to kill her, Hotch. And Jo... Jenna... She played me. She played her part perfectly. She acted like Keira did, but stronger, making the pain I saw seem so much more... intense. When I first saw that kid, she... I decided then that she had not only killed those people, but that she would do it again right under our noses. It just made me so angry, and I lost it, Hotch. I just lost it."

The Unit Chief nodded quietly, opening the file he'd been reading and passing it over the the other agent. Morgan gave him a confused look before turning his attention to the contents of the file. After reading for a minute he looked up, his expression strained.

"Is this for real?"

Hotch nodded again, leaning back in his chair.

"Those are the statement's of Derst's agents, or at least the ones who had contact with Jenna Odari. You can see many of them closely resemble your experience with her. Some of them met her only once, and yet they became completely convinced of her sincerity. Many of them are, like you, good, solid agents who are usually dependable and great at their jobs. And yet, all of these men never once suspected Jenna Odari was the UnSub."

"How is that even possible?" Derek demanded, his voice conveying all his frustration at the situation and his own behavior. Hotch gestured to the file again, and Morgan flipped through it, stopping at one particular page, his eyes widening as he looked up to meet his boss's hawk-like gaze.

"Oxytocin?"

"It's the hormone released when women are in labor and breast feeding," Aaron explained, leaning toward the other man as he added in a low, intent voice, "and it is also at least partially responsible for the human bonding instinct. Oxytocin stimulates the need for touching and closeness, and is usually triggered as a chemical response, or precursor to falling in love."

"And the ME found oxytocin...  _on_  her?" Morgan asked, obviously needing the clarification.

"Oxytocin has been known to be used in a similar fashion to perfume. It's starting to become more common, and it's very dangerous because not only is it not regulated, the people who use it are essentially forcing something that may not happen otherwise. It's like drugging someone, and aside from what I understand to be a reasonably pleasant scent, it's virtually undetectable. We wouldn't have known about it at all, most likely, but Reid remembered something from Keira's book and asked the ME to look for chemicals on her body. And he found oxytocin."

"What... What does that mean?" Morgan asked hesitantly, visibly torn between needing an explanation and being afraid of what his boss would say. Hotch sighed, running a hand over his eyes.

"It means that you weren't entirely in control of your behavior with Odari," he replied, suddenly feeling immensely fatigued, "And while your conduct with Keira was reprehensible, it was also understandable in light of the circumstances. The oxytocin Odari exposed you to made your brain react in a similar fashion to the way you would respond if she were someone you'd known and been in a relationship with for years. You trusted her because your brain told you to."

"Hotch... Not that I'm not grateful... But that sounds nuts. I don't want this to just be an excuse. I don't think I've ever heard of anything like that."

Aaron laughed, though there was very little mirth or amusement in it.

"Believe me, Agent Morgan, I wouldn't have told you this if it weren't medically valid. It's happened before, though the affects are still being studied. It's not common knowledge. I hadn't heard of this until yesterday, when Reid brought it to my attention. Apparently he read it in some obscure journal or report after finding a mention of it in Keira's new book."

Morgan considered that, then shook his head, a weak smile starting to form on his lips.

"I'm gonna have to thank the kid, aren't I?" he mumbled, and Hotch chuckled inwardly. Balance was slowly being restored, but Derek wasn't entirely off the hook yet, and he needed that to be clear.

"You are, but don't be too relieved," he warned softly, "This partially explains the way you defended Odari, but it in no way excuses how you treated Keira. You let your emotions get in the way of the case, and that could have cost us time and lives if it had continued. It is to your credit that you eventually saw your error, but not before you nearly sent a victim into catatonic terror and intimidated one of your colleagues. That can't be explained away, and I won't allow it to be. You said it yourself. You stopped thinking."

Derek had no choice but to accept his reprimand, his guilt-laden eyes staying fixed on his supervisor, who was making up his mind about what he should do.

"I'm going to order that the entire team takes the next week off, including Prentiss and JJ. This case was a particularly bad one, and we all need to decompress. I'm not going to suspend you this time," he declared, his expression saying as much as his words, "but if you  _ever_  turn your back on your training and team like that again, I won't hesitate to take further action. I want that very clear, Morgan. You're a good agent, but lately you've been distracted easily, to the detriment of your team and your job, and I need to know whether or not what's causing it is being resolved."

The dark agent was quiet for a long moment before finally sighing, absently rubbing at his shaven head.

 "Is there a situation I need to be aware of?" Hotch asked quietly, his tone softening as he watched the younger man and saw the signs of a secret that needed to get out before it gnawed away at its keeper, "If there's anything you need to discuss, my door is open."

Morgan nodded but didn't say anything right away. Aaron was content to wait, knowing Derek would need to decide for himself whether to talk about what was bothering him, and then get up the drive to do it.

"In the middle of January," Morgan started abruptly, the words coming out in a rush, "I heard from an old buddy from my bomb squad days. He wanted me to come to his wedding and started razzing me about not having found anyone and telling me about how great she was and all that. I knew her from the old days. She was a bomb tech back then, but she had made it up to raid leader last year. He sounded so happy, Hotch. A couple weeks later, in the first few days of February, I found out he shot and killed her and tried to kill her twin sister."

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and slipping a picture out, holding it up so his boss could see it. Hotch started, realizing that the woman looked a great deal like Jenna Odari, though she had a smaller nose and lighter eyes, and there were no red highlights in her brown hair.

"This is her," Derek explained, quite unnecessarily, "I had a bit of a thing for her when we worked together, and we've kept in touch on and off."

"And when you saw Odari..."

"All I saw was her," Morgan finished, just as Hotch had expected him too, "And when she implied that Datton had hurt her, it just made me so angry... I couldn't take losing her again. All I wanted to do was protect her from that, and Keira became the enemy. I told you already, I just saw red when I saw Datton. I didn't even realize how much Odari and my old friend looked alike until after we got back from LA."

Hotch took that in, trying to decide what to do about it. Derek hadn't been consciously aware of what he was doing, and the chemical oxytocin had altered his response, but he had been out of line, he had still acted impulsively, and he had still let his emotions get the better of him while on the job.

"I need you to be able to check yourself," he stated finally, "if you find yourself seeing your friend rather than the person in front of you, back off and let another agent handle it. Gideon refused to do that and..."

Aaron trailed off, but the point had been made and understood. Morgan nodded, but he wasn't finished yet.

"And Agent Morgan... If you don't back off whatever that situation is..."

Again Morgan nodded, his dark skin paling a little.

"I won't let it happen again, Hotch."

He started for the door, but then the supervisor asked with a small smile, "You ready to move Prentiss into JJ's house tomorrow?"

Derek turned back, laughing as they both remembered the casual way Emily, with JJ watching, had come up to him, Hotch, and Rossi while they'd been talking earlier in the week.

" _I'm moving into JJ's. Would you guys be willing to help move my stuff out of my condo and into her house this weekend?"_

When they'd all nodded she'd smiled, striding away before they could ask questions with the air of one who had just won some major victory.

"I can't believe she just dropped that on us," Derek remarked, shaking his head and giving his boss a grateful look for easing the tension. Hotch had to agree, even though he'd known Prentiss when she had been younger and seen then that she had a mischievous sense of humor at times.

"We all agreed to go, though," he pointed out, "and knowing JJ, she's not going to let Prentiss do much, so we're going to be working hard. I suggest you come prepared to do some heavy lifting."

Morgan chuckled, turning back to the door and heading out, leaving Hotch alone in his office. Aaron's smile quickly faded, his eyes still on the door where the younger man had been standing moments before.

"You're very lucky you're so good," he murmured to the absent profiler, "because if you weren't I would have had to fire you... And I still might. Don't prove me wrong, Derek..."

**Date and Time: March 16, 2008, 10:17**

**Location: Jennifer Jareau's Home Outside Quantico, Virginia**

"Are you sure about this?" Emily asked for what might have been the twentieth time, shifting the box she was carrying to a more comfortable position. She'd lost count after a while, but she sincerely meant the question, and she had to admit that she took a little pleasure in the way Jennifer's blue eyes would roll and the blonde would fix her with a look that was at once tender and impatient, with a little amusement thrown in.

"Yes I'm sure, for the twenty-third time," JJ replied, giving her the expected look, apparently keeping better count than the brunette had been, "and you know it. So shut up and put that down in your room so the guys and Garcia can finish unpacking."

"I can-"

The warning glance she received convinced Emily to shut up and do as she was told, but she smiled as she followed Jennifer into what had been designated 'her room,' though it was clear that the liaison wasn't planning on her using the very comfortable bed JJ had insisted on buying. It had been a compromise, since both women agreed that sometimes they would need the space to work separately or on occasion at a time when the work would disturb the other. It pleased her, and her therapist, that they'd decided to go ahead with the move this way, but the amount of arguing there had been about the actual packing and moving had worn her out. She had been determined to prove that she could pack and move her own things, but JJ hadn't liked the idea of her picking up anything heavier than a pillow. There had been a debate that had flared into an argument that had ended up with them staring at each other and falling over laughing, realizing how stubborn and ridiculous they were both being. Still, it had been decided that the guys would carry anything JJ deemed 'too heavy,' which Emily found very funny considering how scrawny one of said guys was. Still, the move had been surprisingly smooth. Well, maybe not too surprising considering that Garcia and Jennifer had orchestrated it all, and there was no saying no to their combined front. Morgan and Hotch had been given the task of carrying and placing any furniture that needed moving while Reid and Rossi had carried many of the boxes, though a grinning JJ had taken custody of the box containing her collection of trashy romance novels, for which she was eternally grateful. Even Garcia hadn't been given so much of a glimpse at them, much to her relief.

"Em," JJ's voice rang out, breaking into her amused reverie, "Box. Down. Now."

She set down the very light box she'd been carrying almost without thought, the commanding tone in her friend's voice making her react more on reflex than any conscious will.

"Jennifer," she tried again, speaking as reasonably as she could, but the blue eyes cut her off again, narrowing dangerously as their owner got very, very close, poking a finger at her chest.

"Emily Prentiss, I am responsible for making sure you don't get hurt," the liaison growled fiercely, apparently unaware both of how territorial she appeared and of Morgan's aborted entrance into the room, "and I am damn well going to make sure you don't get so much as a sore finger. Your doctor said you were not to lift any significant weight until he said otherwise, and I-"

"Ahem..."

Blonde hair almost smacked Emily in the face as Jennifer turned on Derek, who took one look at her face and decided whatever comment he was going to make would be better left in his own mind and for his own safety he'd better back out of the room until he was invited in by the ranting press liaison.

"Jennifer," the brunette murmured gently, trying not to let on just how adorable she was finding her friend right in that moment, "There's no need to scare off the help. Then I might have to actually lift something heavier than a box of stuffed objects."

The blonde took that in, then turned back toward the door.

"Derek, get in here!"

The big man came in as ordered, gingerly setting his box down and standing very nearly at attention. Two pairs of dark eyes met, one highly amused and only mildly annoyed, the other slightly frightened. The look made it very clear that they were both thinking along the same lines. Jennifer was  _scary_ when she was feeling particularly protective. Neither of them had seen this side of her until this last month or so, not even when Garcia had been hurt. In that case Morgan had taken charge of the stubborn woman's care, and Emily reflected that he had been equally protective, if not quite so... intense... about it. Reid's arrival broke the standoff as the youngest profiler came stumbling in, apparently overburdened by the box he carried, which Emily moved to take from him until a hard look from JJ 'encouraged' Morgan to take the initiative.

"Why don't you two go see about lunch while we finish this?" Hotch suggested, following Reid in with a much larger box than the young genius had carried and apparently catching on to the energy in the room, "there's not much left, and I'm sure the four of us can handle it."

Reid or Emily might have objected, if for different reasons, but JJ was pulling her out before she got the chance, forcefully sitting her down at the kitchen table that Garcia had been setting up as a sandwich-making station. Emily glanced at the tech analyst, who was watching her friend with some surprise and a great deal of barely contained laughter.

"Jeez, Jayj. Think you could be a little more 'mama bear' on the poor woman?'"

JJ stared at her, and that's when both women realized that their friend really had no idea how over-the-top her behavior was. The profiler reached out, gently taking hold of one of the blonde's hands and waiting for Jennifer to look over at her.

"Jennifer, you're treating me like I'll snap in half at the slightest breeze. I'm not an invalid anymore."

Blue eyes widened, looking between Garcia and Emily in confusion and consternation. Penelope came over, taking hold of the liaison's free hand.

"Sweetheart, if Emily were anything other than the saint she is around you, she would have slapped you already," the analyst stated bluntly, but conveying sympathy as only she could. JJ whirled back around to Emily, who blushed and looked down at the table, not quite sure how to respond to that. She made no effort to hide her feelings for JJ, exactly, but she kind of hoped they weren't just out there for the world to see. It didn't exactly surprise her that Garcia had caught on, but she wished she weren't as apparently obvious as she was.

"Em, is that true?" the blonde asked gently, squatting down at her side and forcing her to meet the blue pools that seemed to always see right through her.

"You are acting a little... Overprotective," she answered tactfully, wishing she could make herself look away.

"In other words, honey," Garcia translated helpfully, "You couldn't be more with the 'Rawr!' if you tried."

Jennifer glanced over at the analyst before turning back to Emily, who was staring fixedly down at her hands. The liaison sighed, reaching out to grasp the brunette's long hand again, her free hand brushing a bit of hair that had escaped Emily's ponytail off her face.

"I'm just doing it because I care about you," she murmured softly, "and it would kill me to see you hurt again. You know that, right?"

The profiler sighed and nodded, letting herself enjoy the contact and the gentle tone while it lasted. Something always made JJ pull back, so she had learned to take what she could from these moments.

"So why didn't you call me on how I was behaving?"

The question made Emily smile, and she met her companion's gaze with a calm, amused one of her own.

"Because it was very touching, in a way," she answered honestly, then whispered with a bit of a grin, "and it was kind of adorable. I've never seen you like that with anyone."

JJ blushed darkly, and as the profiler half-expected she stood up, retreating as she often did lately when their interactions became too intense for her. As her friend turned her back Emily sighed to herself. Jennifer was so strong in so many ways, but the slow shift in their relationship was one of the few things that really shook her up, and Emily didn't know how to feel about that. When she looked up Garcia was watching her with understanding eyes and it was her turn to blush. The analyst came over when JJ left the room to answer the phone that was ringing, forcing her to hurry to the front room where she'd left it. After a second's hesitation Garcia sat down at the table next to her, watching her in a knowing way that told Emily a great deal about what she was thinking.

"You told her, didn't you? That you're in love with her?"

The profiler had expected the question, but when it came she was still shaken by it. She leaned back in her chair rubbing her eyes tiredly with her free hand while Penelope took hold of her other one, squeezing gently.

"Yeah. You all knew, huh?"

The tech goddess shrugged a little, her voice sympathetic as she replied, "We guessed a while ago. It wasn't like it was anything blatant. You were just... happier around her. And you were both so much more comfortable with one another than you were with almost anyone else, even when you had just met. Besides, you never touch anyone as often as you do my very lovely, very dense friend. It just all sort of added up after a while. No one ever really talked about it. It just was."

"I must have looked like such a fool," the brunette muttered, staring down at an old coffee stain on the table as a wash of depression fell over her. Garcia squeezed her hand again, drawing her attention back to the computer genius, who was watching her with a great deal of compassion and empathy. So much, in fact, that it made Emily a little uncomfortable, but she needed it. She had tried to keep Jennifer from realizing it, but this little dance they'd been doing, especially after the case, was wearing on her and she just needed someone to understand that.

"You never did, Emily," Penelope assured her warmly, "We've all been there. We've all been rooting for you, you know. You may have gotten a rocky start, but you're part of the family now, and we want you to be happy. Even Rossi... I think."

That last made her chuckle, and she sighed, trying to push back the cloud that had been attempting to crash down on her since the case in LA.

"Thanks, Garcia."

"Anytime," her companion replied firmly, holding out her arms. Emily smiled, giving in and allowing herself to be wrapped in one of the analysts patented hugs, letting her friend's warmth surround her. On this one thing she couldn't turn to JJ, and it was such a relief that there was someone there.

"Hey... Is everything all right?" JJ's voice asked, sounding worried, and the two agents looked up, meeting the blonde's concerned gaze.

"Everything's fine," the brunette reassured her immediately, giving the beautiful liaison a warm smile that threatened to fall apart as soon as she saw the confused, almost dazed expression on her friend's face, "Who called?"

Jennifer suddenly looked nervous, running a hand through her hair before walking around the table to take the empty chair at the brunette's side.

"I missed the call, but there was a message. It was from Will LaMontagne, the detective from New Orleans?"

The profiler and tech analyst nodded, sharing knowing looks before turning back to their friend, waiting for her to go on, which she did after taking some time to collect herself.

"Well, apparently there's some appeal or something coming up related to the case, and he was hoping I'd be willing to go down there and run over some of the details with him. And he asked if I'd be willing to fly down this weekend. As in... today."

Emily blinked once, her only outward reaction to the news, but Garcia's response was much more obvious. Her eyes widened and she looked between the blonde and brunette, opening her mouth to say something. The profiler discreetly gripped her hand, distracting her before she could.

"If you want to, you should go," she remarked calmly, summoning up another warm smile when JJ met her eyes, clearly uncertain, "I'll be all right. The guys are perfectly capable of finishing up with Garcia's supervision, and I won't do anything more strenuous than feed hungry mouths."

"Emily..."

Sensing that the larger woman was about to object Emily flashed a warning look in her direction before returning her attention to Jennifer.

"I'll be fine," she repeated reassuringly, "If you don't want to go you shouldn't, but if you do, there's no reason you shouldn't get on a plane and go."

The profiler felt Garcia watching her and almost shifted under the burning intensity of that stare, but she held still, knowing that any doubt or hesitation on her part would keep her friend from going even though she was obviously excited about the idea.

"I don't want you here by yourself," the blonde started, "I know you've been having nightmares, and I don't want to risk not being here in case you have one of the bad ones."

Emily was touched by JJ's very real concern for her, but she wouldn't allow the blonde to neglect her own life to take care of her. She'd been taking care of herself for a long time, and she would continue to do so. She'd be an idiot to say that she didn't need JJ, but it was just one weekend. Surely she could manage that much for her friend's sake, right?

"It'll be okay, really," she urged patiently, continuing to ignore Garcia, "If anything happens you're just a phone call away, right?"

"A phone call and a thousand miles," the liaison retorted immediately, "Emily, I don't want to leave you alone in what is still a relatively unfamiliar place when you're going through a rough time. This last case was really hard on you, and anyway, we were going to go up to Keira's place tomorrow, remember?"

"Don't worry about that," Emily replied, shaking her head, "I'll call and reschedule. He said he's happy to care for the dogs as long as we need, so it won't be a bother."

She softened her tone and expression, giving Jennifer a tender, reassuring smile.

"You can't tell me this last month hasn't been hard on you," she went on delicately, "You deserve a vacation, and Det. LaMontagne will, if nothing else, be sure to give you a proper tour of his city and show you the best places to unwind."

"Emily-"

The brunette shook her head again, her smile firmly in place.

"You want to go. I can see it. So get up and go pack, Jennifer. I promise I won't strain myself. I'll just relax and watch TV or something while you're gone. It'll be okay."

JJ hesitated a few minutes longer before giving in, hesitantly getting up and heading toward her bedroom, stopping in the doorway and starting to turn back.

"Em..."

"Go, JJ," the brunette commanded, giving her friend another smile. Once she was out of sight the profiler sighed, finally turning to look at Garcia.

"Why... Just why?" the analyst asked, conveying all the frustration and concern she'd been forced to contain during the debate. Emily shook her head, reaching back to rub her shoulder. She hadn't told JJ about the throbbing pain that had been there for the last couple of days, knowing she would delay the move or cut her entirely out of the process because of it. She hated hiding things from Jennifer, but it was for the best in this case. She needed to feel like she was doing something, being useful, or that cloud of depression would manage to fall on her.

"You know as well as I do that she wanted to go," the brunette pointed out, "and she likes him. It's not like I can ask her to suspend her whole life just because I'm a bit beat up."

"You're also in love with her!"

She stood up, not meeting Garcia's eyes as she nodded in agreement.

"If she's interested, she's not ready yet and I have to wait," she stated firmly, hoping she didn't sound nearly as hopeless as she was starting to feel, "and if she's not, I have no right to hold her back."

She started walking out of the kitchen to go see how the guys were faring, but Garcia caught her arm, turning her back around.

"And maybe she's interested and she needs to be pushed a little," the analyst suggested, her tone almost fierce as she searched her face, "JJ isn't known for making the best choices romantically, and she's more likely to run  _away_  from something good than toward it. Are you really going to let that happen after everything?"

Emily closed her eyes, knowing her expression betrayed the pain she was feeling, pain that had been steadily building within her and not just the pain in her shoulder.

"I can't push unless I'm sure," she choked out, hating how vulnerable she felt but needing Garcia to understand, "and I won't stop her from having a life. Having her resent me for tying her down when I had no right to would be worse than watching her with someone else."

As she strode away she winced as Garcia asked quietly after her, "Is it really?"

An hour and a half later the brunette was watching as JJ climbed out of the car at the airstrip. When Hotch had heard what was going on he'd given JJ permission to use the BAU jet barring an emergency, and the blonde suspected from the look he'd given her that he'd done it largely so she'd be able to get back faster if something happened to Emily. It didn't matter what his motivations were, however. She was just grateful for it, because the reality was that if something  _did_  happen, being forced to take a commercial flight back home would drive her insane. She felt bad enough for leaving in the first place, but this case was important to Will, and she really did like the guy. That last thought reminded her of what was perhaps the most confusing part of this whole thing. Emily was in love with her, but she had still encouraged her to go, knowing full well that Jennifer had been, and might still be, interested in the New Orleans detective. She had known the brunette was incredibly understanding, more so than the liaison felt she deserved, but this either qualified her for sainthood or for some sort of 'idiot of the year' award. She doubted the latter, since she knew very well how intelligent the profiler was.

"You have all the numbers for the team and the hospital, and the hotel I'll be at, and Will's phone?" she asked, breaking herself out of her confused thoughts and concentrating all her attention on her watching friend. Emily gave her another of those sweet, affectionate smiles, but JJ wasn't blind. There was pain behind that expression, pain that most people never would have noticed but was blatantly obvious to her. She recalled something Keira Datton had said about learning how a person's mind worked when you lived in close quarters, acknowledging the truth in the writer's words.

"Go on, Jennifer," the brunette replied, shutting off the car and getting out, going around to her side and lightly clasping her arm, "I'll be fine. You go have some fun."

The liaison seriously considered asking Emily to come with her or just changing her mind about the whole thing, but the look on the profiler's face told her neither was really an option.

"You're so stubborn," she declared with a laugh that was almost a sob. She scolded herself for being silly, since she'd only be gone for two days at most and she had been away from the team longer than that before. Still, this was different. This was the first time she'd left Emily alone since they'd rescued her from Samis and it was tearing her apart, mostly with concern and fear for her friend's safety, but if she were honest with herself it was also because she was scared for herself too. There hadn't been a night they hadn't shared a bed in a month, and most of those nights if she hadn't woken up screaming Emily had, leaving them both needing the comfort of the other. No matter how much she liked Will, he would never be Emily, and his arms couldn't provide what the older woman's did. Not that she planned on doing anything with him, of course, since that would just feel wrong, but still.

"If anything happens, you call me," she ordered, fighting back tears as she looked up into Emily's brown-black eyes, "and I mean  _anything_. I don't care what time it is or what I might be doing. You understand?"

The profiler nodded slowly, but JJ held her gaze a moment longer, needing to be absolutely sure.

"Promise me, Emily. Otherwise I'm not going and Will can figure out the case on his own."

Emily chuckled, taking a small step forward and pulling JJ into her arms, hugging her tightly. The blonde melted into the embrace, hugging her companion almost as tightly. The only reason she held back from holding the woman as tightly as she physically could was the nagging fear of hurting the still-healing profiler, and she knew Emily knew that from the soft laugh that came from right next to her ear.

"I promise, Jennifer. It's just two days, though. We'll survive. Now get going."

That last was said in a bit of a rush as Emily tried to step back, but JJ wouldn't let her, at least not right away. She could sense this was at least as hard for the brunette as it was for her, and her will to leave was lessening with every moment. In general she hated the idea of needing another person this way, but this was Emily, and that made it different.

"Go," the profiler repeated, her voice starting to waver a little as she added, "Just come home safe. And soon."

The tears forming in the dark eyes nearly broke her then and there, but Emily shook her head and backed away, her fingertips brushing a tear from the liaison's face before turning her back, walking back to the driver's side with stiff, slightly uneven strides.

"I'll miss you, even if it is just two days," JJ whispered, wanting to run and hold her friend but knowing she wouldn't be able to leave if she did, "And I'll be home soon."

She could tell Emily had heard her by the way her shoulders relaxed a little, but the brown-black eyes didn't meet hers. With a sigh Jennifer turned away, feeling that dark gaze following her as she walked up into the plane, closing the hatch behind her and making herself comfortable in one of the seats. She looked out the window, both warmed and pained to see Emily waving as the big vehicle's engines, which had been idling since they'd arrived, rumbled to life. She waved back until she couldn't see her dark friend anymore, sighing to herself as she leaned back in her seat to think. One thing she very much needed to consider was the almost physical ache she felt at the knowledge that she couldn't just call Emily's name and find the brunette there. They hadn't been more than the length of a conference room or the bullpen from one another in a month, and she was finding that her usual need for independence and a little solitude had been pushed aside almost completely. That wasn't to say that Emily didn't give her privacy or respect her independence. If anything, she was more guilty of that with the older woman, but as Garcia had half-jokingly commented earlier, Emily had the patience of a saint, and she'd be forever grateful for that.

"So why do I wish she'd just... Lose it a little?" she asked herself out loud, needing to hear the words somewhere outside of her own mind. It scared her that sacrifice came so readily to the dark profiler. She didn't want to ever take that for granted, and she was very scared that she might be starting to. Emily had already sacrificed too much and had fought too hard to live to spend her life waiting on the decision of a woman who had a really bad track record of running away from relationships when they started to become too real, which it was starting to appear might happen. Silently flaying herself for being a coward and sticking her best friend in limbo emotionally at a time when she needed stability, Jennifer reached into her bag and pulled out her journal, paging through the entries that started shortly after they'd come back from the hospital in February and continued on at least a daily basis to the present. The journal contained all the her confusion, her fear, and her doubts, the things she was most afraid to tell Emily about for fear they would cause her pain or worry. Now, sitting alone on a plane that was rapidly taking her away from the beautiful woman, she understood what Emily had been trying to tell her on this same plane while they'd flown to Montana. If she looked up she felt that she'd see herself almost bolting during that conversation, once again kicking herself for being a coward. At least that time she hadn't run away. Well... much.

"She deserves better," she muttered unhappily, staring blankly down at the pages full of everything she hated about herself. All the things she never wanted anyone, especially someone like Emily, to know about her, were there for her to see. Her therapist had suggested she write down all her darker thoughts and read them over as an exercise in understanding herself and how irrational her doubts were, but alone in the air they started to make entirely too much sense, especially the one that showed up in every entry.

 _I'm so afraid of getting hurt that I push away everyone who gets close, even the ones I_ want  _closer._

The single sentence, written somewhere on every page in one form or another, haunted her. And here she was, returning to the man she had run away from about a year ago, terrified of how much she'd liked him and making all kinds of excuses to keep herself from seeing how much of a coward she really was.

_The more I care about someone, the harder I push them away, and the more we both get hurt._

JJ sighed, thinking back to her last therapy session. She could vividly remember her therapist's words after he had read some of the entries.

" _You're too hard on yourself, Agent Jareau,_ " he'd remarked at his most formal, " _As I'm sure you know. Your next project is to find something that makes you stare all these doubts in the face and put something symbolizing it in the back of this journal. In the front put something that symbolizes those fears and doubts._ "

She had agreed, if somewhat reluctantly, and gone home to find something. The hardest part of choosing something to represent her doubts had been deciding amongst the many options and possibilities. Finally she'd decided on a photo of her family. The choice had caused her a great deal of guilt, but the reality was that as much as she loved her family, she knew they doubted her and didn't understand why she did what she did. They just didn't get that some things in life were more important to a woman than making babies or getting married and being taken care of. And the pain that caused her trickled into every aspect of her life, magnifying already existing fears and making her doubt herself even more, because if her own family couldn't understand and support her...

" _You move around enough you get used to being whoever people want you to be._ "

The blonde sat up a little straighter, pulled out of the building wave of self-pity by Emily's voice, even if it was just a memory. Her hands moved seemingly of their own accord to the back of the journal where, after much debate that mostly centered on whether she was being completely ridiculous or not, she had put a copy of her favorite photograph of herself and Emily. Garcia had taken it in the hospital, but if she hadn't known she never would have guessed. The shot focused completely on their faces, and as she stared down at it Jennifer realized that all she wanted to do was tell the pilot to turn around.

"How can you still be so brave?" she asked the woman in the photograph, brushing her friend's frozen face with her fingertips, "How can you trust enough to smile like that? You've been hurt, and if anything your family is worse to you than mine is to me. So why is it you can look at me like that when I can't even look you in the eye sometimes because I'm scared of what I'll see there?"

Jennifer sighed, turning to stare out the window, the journal still open in her lap as she continued to think about what her friend had said back in Arizona. She could see part of the point Emily had been making. She hadn't moved a lot, but each time she had there had been a demand for her to be someone other than herself. First it had been college, and later an even more drastic change in the FBI academy. That was where she had learned to smile when she was scared, hurt, or angry, and laugh when she wanted to cry or scream. The BAU had given her a chance to be herself at last, or at least it had once she'd proven herself capable, but she had never broken the habits of her academy days. Sometimes those habits served her well, making her look stable and reassuring to the press, the victims, and her own team. On the other hand, those habits kept her at a distance from the team, though Garcia had rarely been fooled by her smiles. At first that bothered her, but eventually she had learned to appreciate the analysts forthright nature. Then Emily came along with her dark, understanding eyes and that shy, sweet smile, and once again there was someone who saw through her and would call her on it. She could remember telling Emily to be herself with the team on multiple occasions, that they just wanted the person she was, not the Ambassador's daughter or anyone else. So why couldn't she follow her own advice, especially with something that mattered so much?

"Why can't I..."

She trailed off, already knowing the answer to her own question. She couldn't shake the smiling, stable persona she had created for fear of what she would see in the mirror if she did. She had spent so long pretending to be this fearless person who was rarely upset by anything that she was scared to be anything else. And now that she had become responsible for Emily's care while she recovered, she was even more afraid of the self just under the smiling mask. She couldn't risk letting Emily down, and just like the brunette had observed, she had shoved her own well-being to the back of her mind to care for her friend. It wasn't supposed to work like that, though. She had always been taught that a person couldn't care for someone else effectively without taking care of his or herself first.

"God... She was right."

JJ bowed her head, looking again at the picture before turning back to the front of the journal, looking into the eyes of her family. They were smiling and happy in the picture, but it didn't take much to call up an image of them looking at her in confusion, disappointment... And even occasional disgust. They loved her, but she didn't fit the mold. She wasn't one of them, and they didn't like that. She had fought so hard to get out of East Allegheny and leave that life behind, but she hadn't known what it would cost her. Now she did, and while she wouldn't change her life for the world, the fact remained that the ripples of her choices back then were still affecting her now, making her run from the one person she most wanted to be with.

"I should have stayed," she whispered, staring into the still faces of the people who had raised her, played with her as a child, and who had tried to shape her in their image, "I should have stayed with Emily."

In a moment of self-loathing rage she slammed the journal shut, almost chucking it across the plane. A sudden memory of Emily throwing a pen across the bullpen stopped her, pulling an unbidden laugh from her throat. With a sigh she opened it again, writing out everything she had been reflecting on, everything that had triggered her rage and her depression. She had just finished filling up the last page of what had become a nine page entry when the captain announced they were about to land in New Orleans. She put the journal away, feeling drained but somehow relieved, as if writing it all out had taken some of the burden off her mind, allowing her to think more clearly. She would help Will and do her best to relax in New Orleans, and then she would go home to Emily and they would talk. Really talk, that is, and she would show her friend the journal. She would show the dark woman the side of herself she most hated and feared, and accept the consequences. Emily deserved nothing less than complete honesty from her, and now she would give it. As the plane slowed to a stop, she once again considered asking the pilot to just turn around and take her home so she could get this over with, but she decided against it. Hopefully this weekend would relax her enough to actually be able to go through with it. Either way, it gave her a chance to think about what she would say and how to say it.

"Damn the torpedoes," JJ muttered wryly, shaking her head as she hefted her bag and climbed out, smiling when she found Will waiting on the tarmac with a car and a slow grin. She couldn't decide whether to shake his hand or hug him, but the detective took the choice out of her hands by wrapping her in a warm embrace before sliding her bag off her shoulder and on to his own, leading her toward the car with a hand on the small of her back. The gesture was similar to one of Emily's that she started, her brain automatically comparing the two and finding that, a little to JJ's surprise, that she'd much rather Emily be touching her. She shook the thought off, focusing on Will as he stowed her bag and they climbed into the car.

"So, where to first?" he drawled, giving her another smile, "We playin' it Pennsylvania or New Orleans style tonight?"

She laughed, aware that the detective was flirting with her and finding herself charmed. It had been a while since she'd had a guy look at her like that, and she was finding that she liked it. The feeling made her guilty, though, reminding her that  _Emily_  gave her a look that made her feel both incredibly wanted and completely terrified and accepting Will's attentions made her feel somehow unfaithful.

"I got a call from one of your friends," Will was saying, apparently oblivious to her internal conflict, "That dark-haired one, Agent Prentiss. She warned me I'd better show you a good time or she'd come kick my ass. Since I don't want none of your friends hatin' me, I figure I'd best do as the lady says."

JJ chuckled, thinking that was so like Emily to do, and some of her guilt waned. Some, but not all, or even most. With an inward sigh she forced herself to focus on the present and her current company, though she checked her phone to make sure she hadn't missed any calls, which of course she hadn't.

"Well, work first," she decided, and the detective laughed.

"Had a feeling you'd say that."

And work they did once they got to her hotel, all the way through the dinner they'd ordered from room service. The entire time Will had been charmingly flirtatious, and more than once she caught herself flirting back, accepting more contact, more open displays of affection. The tension kept building between them until it reached an unbearable level. When she realized what she was happening she frowned inwardly, thinking of Emily and wondering why she was doing any of it when she didn't want to. It was almost as if she were reacting out of habit, not any conscious desire. Before she could come to any conclusions Will leaned over and kissed her and she was kissing him back. Her mind tried to tell her to stop, tried to tell her that Will, that this, wasn't what she wanted, but her body seemed to be acting almost of its own accord. As the detective started slowly undressing her, Jennifer felt as if she had left her body behind and was watching from above, screaming silently for it to stop, to get away, to end it before it started, but still the dance continued until Will was laying naked at her side, asleep and sated, leaving her to come back to herself and wonder what she had just done. She rolled, moving away from Will and off the bed, ignoring his mumbled complaints. She collected her clothes in silence, tossing them down next to her bag, more than a little tempted to throw them away. She felt dirty, she realized. Soiled, disgusting, and undeserving. She glanced back at the bed, seeing a flash of Emily's face superimposed over the reality of Will that made her stomach turn painfully. JJ rapidly collected a fresh set of clothes and ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her and kneeling over the toilet, vomiting as the mental and emotional storm passed through her.

"What have I done?"

When she was reduced to dry heaves and sobs she stumbled into the shower and turned it on, needing to scrub the smell and feel of sex from her. She could barely stand, barely think, but still she rubbed her skin until it was raw and red. She needed Will off her. She couldn't go home to Emily with him on her skin. The thought wasn't rational, it wasn't logical, it wasn't even particularly coherent. It was purely raw emotion, and it was out of her control. That thought made her realize what had happened and the knowledge brought her to her knees.

"No..." she whimpered, staring blankly at the walls while the scalding water poured down on her. For almost three weeks Emily had been flirting with her, surrounding her with everything from shy compliments to outright displays that left her trembling and dazed. All the while there had been the same tension building she had felt with Will, except with Will she had given in to it. It was safe to give in to Will, she thought, her stomach churning and her eyes burning. It was safe because he wasn't Emily, and when it inevitably ended, when she inevitably hurt him, he wouldn't be the person she could least stand to cause pain. She had taken the easy way out, whether or not it had been intentional or entirely willingly, but it wasn't easy to deal with the consequences. She still had to face the team, after all. She'd still have to face Emily. For a wild moment she considered not telling her, but she had sworn to stop running away, to face herself and show Emily everything she tried to hide.

"I can't stay here," she mumbled, the words breaking through the chaos in her mind, which in turn made her aware of how raw her back felt where the burning water was pouring down on it. She almost laughed at the sick irony of it all, turning off the spray and wrapping a towel around herself, wincing at the way the cloth rubbed against her sensitive skin. She carefully dried off and dressed, working through the pain as best she could, berating herself the whole time. She shouldn't have come out here. On some level she had known this would happen, and it wouldn't surprise her in the least if Emily had known too. So why had she pushed her to go?

"Because she loves me."

JJ groaned, wanting to bang her head against the wall for being so insanely dense. Emily was the kind of person who loved with everything she was, but she had learned a very long time ago not to hope for much out of the people she loved. She had known that. Jennifer was probably the only one on the team Emily had trusted with so much of her past. She had  _known_  that Emily would never, ever hold her back from something the brunette thought she wanted, even if it broke her. The dark profiler loved her enough to watch her walk away, and that knowledge was enough to bring JJ to her knees. She should never have come here. She hadn't even  _wanted_ to come, but Will had sounded so hopeful and Emily...

"Damn it," she sobbed, leaning back against the cold wall, "Why didn't I listen to her?! Garcia knew and tried to stop me, but no... I let myself get talked into going, even though the look in Emily's eyes when I left..."

That memory drained any remaining blood from her face, and when she glanced at the mirror her skin was almost bone white, leaving her looking sickly and weak.

"I can't stay here," she repeated, shaking her head violently, trying to clear the conflicting thoughts, "This isn't right."

Her mind made up, JJ stood on legs that threatened to give out again, leaning over the sink to wash the tears from her face. When she stepped out of what had become her sanctuary, her nose wrinkled at the smell of sweat and sex. Will was still sleeping as she collected her bag and quietly packed her things, for which she was incredibly grateful. She wrote him a note, even her knew resolve to face things unable to overcome her disgust with the room and what she had done in it. She needed to get home. She needed to get to Emily, even if it meant telling her what had happened and facing the disappointment and pain she was sure would be in those dark eyes. Better to face that than how much worse it would be if she were to stay or, God forbid, do it again. With a quiet sigh she slipped out of the room and into the elevator, running a tired hand through her hair. She stopped at the front desk to get a cab and pay her bill before leaving, calling the jet's pilot while she waited for the cab, incredibly thankful to find him awake, sober, and willing to fly her back home. JJ fell into something of an exhausted daze once she sat down in the cab, so worn out emotionally and physically that all she wanted to do was sleep, but at the same time she was keyed up and tense. Aside from the obvious, well... JJ hadn't had sex in a long time, and while Will may have been satisfied, she wasn't. While he was a good lover, it just wasn't good enough for her. The left over tension was not helping her mood, and it was keeping her awake. Deciding to make the best use of that tension, she pulled out her journal once she'd gotten settled on the plane, writing just as she had on the way to New Orleans. The words poured out of her without any conscious thought, so when she sat back and read what she'd written, she was shocked by the sheer honesty and utter confusion it revealed. Apparently sexual frustration could be quite the inspiration. The entry was written as stream of thought, and so had no clear organization. What it lacked in structure, however, it made up for in content, including some that made her blush to read.

"When did I start noticing her lips?" she asked aloud, torn between tearing up the pages she'd all but scribbled on, laughing, or maybe even crying again, "Or her chest, of all things?"

It wasn't actually a surprise. She knew she'd been physically attracted to Emily for a long time. That was an indisputable fact, and one that had prompted her to ask the brunette if she had ever fantasized about them together. Emily's response had been in the affirmative, but she hadn't had the guts to ask for more details. Now her own fantasies where written on those pages, along with all the reasons why she had never, and thought she would never, act on them. The idea of Em seeing this was completely terrifying, but on the other hand it would be such a relief. She hated hiding anything from her friend, even if it was habit and second nature.

"Ma'am, we've landed," the captain announced over the PA, startling her out of her thoughts, "and there's a cab waiting to take you wherever you need to go."

JJ nodded even though he couldn't see her, almost running down the steps and into the cab. She had committed to her plan now, and for better or worse she needed to see it through. It was too late now to have the discussion she felt they needed to, but for tonight she'd settle for being near Emily, as much as she knew she didn't deserve it. The older woman grounded her, and she really needed that right now. When she finally got home, she tossed her bag into the front closet and set her laptop down on the small table she usually used for mail. To her surprise there was a slip of paper there that had her name written on it by a hand she knew as well as her own.

_**Jennifer,** _

_**I went for a run out toward the gas station. I don't know if you'll get this or if you're coming back tonight, but if you do I want you to know I'm fine. I just needed to clear my head.** _

_**Will called. He sounded concerned. You should probably call him back.** _

_**Emily** _

JJ stared at the writing for a long moment, suddenly very, very afraid of what might be running through her friend's mind. If she had talked to Will...

"Oh God..."

Before she had consciously thought about it she was in motion, collecting her keys, a bottle of water, Emily's pain medication, and a jacket before bolting out to her truck, throwing the jacket across the passenger's seat as she started the pickup. The gas station Emily had mentioned was about 6 miles south of her home, though she was hoping the dark profiler wouldn't try to go that far. Her body was in no condition to do something like that, and even if she didn't further injure herself she could easily get very sick.

"Come on, Em... Come on, where are you?" she muttered, her headlights on high and her eyes searching. She was about a mile from the station when she caught a glimpse of black and gray that didn't fit in with the darkness around it. JJ pulled over, the light from the truck catching on highlights in raven-black hair and a pale face she'd know anywhere.

"Emily!" she called, leaving her vehicle idling as she rushed around it to her friend's side. The brunette was sprawled on the concrete sidewalk, her face twisted with pain and the right leg her sweatpants torn. Emily groaned, looking up at her with a visible effort.

"Jen... Jennifer?"

The liaison nodded absently, preoccupied with assessing what might be the problem. She couldn't tell in the dark, though, so she focused on the her friend's face, noticing a scrape on one cheek like she'd skidded on the ground. Her clothes were sweat-soaked and she was shivering noticeably, so JJ turned and yanked the jacket she'd grabbed out of the truck, wrapping it around her friend as she pulled her into her arms, hoping the heat of her body would help to stave off a chill in the cool March air.

"There you go, Em," she murmured reassuringly, gently rubbing the strong arms and back, "What happened? What hurts?"

"My l-leg," Emily stuttered, her voice strained with pain, "Muscle spasm... I fell... Ugh!"

The painful groan accompanied a sharp jerk of the brunette's leg, and JJ knew she had to get her companion home, if not to a hospital. The electric shocks Samis had inflicted on Emily had caused potentially permanent damage to the nerves in parts of her body, especially her left leg, causing them to misfire and send the muscles they connected to into spasms. The doctors hadn't been sure why the left leg in particular was so bad, but they warned that they could be crippling if left too long.

"Let's get you into the truck, Emily. You think you can get up?"

The profiler groaned, struggling to get upright. JJ slipped an arm across her shoulders, bracing her weight for the few steps to the truck and almost lifting her in, easily able to see how much the pain was wearing on her. She gave the older woman credit for just being conscious and trying to help. JJ didn't think she could take that kind of pain, but Emily did it and acted as if it were nothing. Give the woman a paper cut, however...

"Breathe, Em," she murmured gently, reaching past her friend to grab the little orange bottle and the water, opening the first for two pills before closing it and setting it aside.

"Open your mouth," JJ commanded, which Emily did. She helped the older woman take a sip of water and held the pills up to her lips, waiting until they were swallowed and chased by more water before setting aside the bottle and taking a moment to breathe herself.

"Let's get you home and into a hot bath to relax those muscles, okay?"

It wasn't really a question, and Emily managed a weak smile to show she knew it too. JJ smiled back, impulsively leaning up to press a kiss to her companion's cheek, trying to ignore how soft the skin was, and trying even harder to ignore the thought that it was much nicer than kissing Will. It became much easier to ignore when she realized just how hot the skin had been, and she frowned, touching Emily's forehead with the back of her hand.

"God, Em, you're burning up!" the blonde cried, shaken by the heat radiating off the shivering woman. It could have just been pain, but JJ wasn't taking any chances, and the next words out of her companions mouth just confirmed her suspicions.

"I'm c-cold," Emily argued weakly, burrowing into the jacket around her. JJ frowned, closing the door and going around to the other side, getting in and shutting that door too. She turned the heater on when she started the truck, taking possession of one of the dark woman's hands for the entirety of the drive home. Somehow they managed to get inside and into the master bathroom, where JJ got water going, turning her attention to getting Emily out of her sweats and running shoes once the tub was filling. This wasn't the first time Jennifer had needed to do this, but it was the first time Emily hadn't even attempted to tease her about it. In fact, the brown-black eyes wouldn't even meet her own, and that worried her. It wasn't like Emily to be so quiet, even when she was in so much pain. Once the tub was full she half-carried her friend into the water, watching the shock spread across her face at the heat. Worried by how hazy and detached the other agent's face, she kicked off her shoes and socks and tossed her jacket away before sliding into the water behind the brunette, all but pulling the woman into her lap to keep her from slipping under the water.

"Mmm," Emily murmured sleepily as JJ wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her in place while the other hand gently massaged whatever the blonde could reach. Jennifer could feel the profiler relaxing as the combination of medication and the hot water eased the contracted muscles, leaving Emily limp and boneless, but she was still shivering. The shivers weren't from the cold however, as they radiated from any place Emily's skin touched her own. JJ had forgotten, if only for a moment, that the woman in her arms wanted her, and this wasn't exactly an ideal situation for easing the tension that had started this whole chain of events. It was too late to worry about it now, though.

"I've got you, Em," the blonde whispered tenderly, working very hard not to think about her more visceral reaction to the body she was hugging to her own. She could feel her friend struggle weakly against the medication's effects, but as she spoke Emily became still, staying that way for a long moment. It was the kind of stillness that told of a decision being made and reconsidered over and over again, not relaxation. Finally the brunette sighed and leaned back, resting her head against JJ's shoulder as she closed her eyes in surrender, though surrender to what was the question.

"Your clothes are going to be ruined," she remarked, sounding a touch mournful. Jennifer chuckled, hugging the slowly recovering agent tightly.

"That's okay. Just means we have an excuse to go shopping for new ones."

Emily laughed, but it was a little forced, making the blonde frown worriedly. Emily was in love with her. Being this close and this exposed had to be incredibly difficult for her, but she was in so much pain there was no alternative. When JJ felt that the bath had done all the good it was going to, including get the sweat off her companion's body, she got up and out, draining the tub around Emily and wrapping a towel around her before helping her out, too cautious to try moving her while she was wet and slippery and aware that the poor woman probably felt far too vulnerable as it was. Once the brunette was out she wrapped her in a robe and helped her travel the short distance to JJ's bed. Emily took over from there, toweling her hair dry while the younger agent changed. Once again there was no banter, no flirting, and that worried Jennifer. She wanted her friend to get some rest, but she had to know something first.

"What did Will say when he called, Em?" she asked gently once she was in clean, dry pajamas and reasonably dry, sitting down on the bed next to her companion. Emily sighed, her dark eyes foggy from more than the medication and exhaustion. Once out of the hot water her muscles would have contracted somewhat, meaning she was once again in pain but not as much as before. Given how strong the medication Dr. Kelso had prescribed was, however, the fact that the profiler was still conscious said quite a bit about both her pain levels and her mental state. Emily was much more upset than she wanted Jennifer to think she was.

"He said you'd disappeared after you two had sex and he was worried. He asked if there was someone in your life and wanted you to call him if there wasn't, or even if there was," Emily replied in her quiet, straightforward way, then paused, turning her head just slightly to look into JJ's blue eyes.

"I was worried too. I tried calling you, but your cell was off. Your cell phone is never off, Jennifer, so I was concerned," Emily murmured quietly, letting that last hang in the air a moment before she added, "I waited a while, but when your phone didn't come back on I called Garcia, and she told me the jet was in the air, probably on the way back here. I decided you'd call when you were ready, so I went for a run. I guess I just needed some time to think."

The liaison took that in, then sighed, realizing they were going to have this conversation tonight, though that had not been her intention. She'd just wanted to know what Will had said to send her off into the night despite all her doctor's warnings and Emily's own awareness of her condition. Now that they were on the subject, however, the dark profiler wouldn't rest without some resolution. It was just the way she was. Emily didn't like unanswered questions, which was part of the reason she made such an amazing profiler.

"Emily..."

She wanted to take her friend's hand, but she wasn't sure how Emily would take it just yet. They needed to make some things clear first.

"What happened with me and Will-"

"It's all right," the brunette broke in gently, shaking her head slowly before meeting JJ's eyes again, "When I was running I realized you haven't been with a guy in a long time. The last date I know you went on was that time with John, and you left early because of me. I can't ask you to make that sacrifice for me any more, and I won't. I may be in love with you, but that doesn't mean I have some sort of claim on you. I told Garcia the same thing earlier."

Jennifer shook her head, but Emily kept going, not giving her a chance to speak, her expression one of profound sadness that probably wouldn't have shown through had it not been for the medication. The brunette seemed unaware of how open she was right now, and JJ wished she could warn her. It would kill her if Emily ever thought she'd been taken advantage of.

"I knew when Will called you guys would probably end up together. I just didn't expect to hear it from him... And I didn't think you'd come back here. I was surprised to hear you'd left, and even more surprised when you drove up. He seems like the kind of guy who goes for a commitment."

Now that sadness made sense. Emily had expected her to either stay with Will or come back with him, neither of which had the slightest chance of actually happening. Emily had no way of knowing that, though. Despite the move, the brunette had no assurance that their relationship, whatever it was, could or would be permanent. Her whole life had been one disappointment after another when it came to those she loved, and almost nothing JJ had done would have lessened the fear, the expectation even, of getting hurt. If anything, much of her behavior would have added to Emily's worries. And the profiler had no way to know that JJ cared far more about Emily and her happiness than all the men in the world. She'd have to change that, make very sure her friend understood there was nothing and no one more important to JJ than her, but tonight wasn't the time. She had to get Emily to relax and sleep so her body could recover. That had to be her priority now, but Em wouldn't accept a 'let's talk about it tomorrow,' so she needed to say _something_  to reassure her sufficiently that she'd sleep.

"I'm not looking for anything like that, even if he is," the blonde started slowly, gingerly taking hold of her companion's hand as she went on, hoping the contact would be both welcome and reassuring, "It was a mistake, Emily. I didn't go there to sleep with Will. I just wanted to help him with the case. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, but for tonight, please, just accept that I'm not leaving you, and certainly not for Will LaMontagne."

"Jennifer..."

The liaison shook her head, meeting Emily's dark, foggy eyes and holding them, seeing in their depths the fear and confusion she'd known would be there. She sighed, reaching up to brush dark hair away from the scrape on her friend's face.

"Emily, I've told you before. I love you. I talked you into moving here with me because I want to spend more time with you. I'm not going to go running off with someone at the first opportunity when I finally have you here. I've been thinking about asking you to move in with me for months. Until now, though, I didn't think I could get you to say yes. Now I don't want you going anywhere. I want this to be your home, and I'd like to be a part of that."

She stopped talking for a minute when she realized she was rambling. Emily was too tired and too hurt to be bombarded with revelations right now. She just needed to know what was important for the here and now.

"I'm not going anywhere, Emily," she concluded firmly, watching as some of the tense fear faded from brown-black eyes, replaced by gentle affection, "Anything and everything you want to know, you can ask me after you get some sleep, and you can hold me to that. Come on, sweetheart. You can't tell me you're not tired."

The profiler watched her in silence, then suddenly smiled, leaning into Jennifer's touch.

"I'm not tired," she contradicted wearily, startling the blonde until she added, "I'm exhausted, I'm in pain, and all I want to do right now is fall asleep with you next to me."

"I'm pretty sure we can arrange that," JJ replied with an affectionate smile, helping the dark agent out of the robe and into clean, dry sleepwear. It was very, very distracting to have the beautiful, almost aristocratic Emily Prentiss naked on her bed, even if just for the short time it took for her to dress. The blonde once again ignored her hormones and turned her attention to making Emily as comfortable as possible. She could tell her friend was still in pain despite the medication from the way she curled up on her right side, keeping her weight off her left leg. Jennifer laid herself down so the older woman was facing her, holding out a hand.

"Come here, Emily."

The brunette hesitated only a second or two before letting herself be wrapped up in the liaison's arms, her bad leg thrown absently across JJ's lower body. Jennifer reached down with her free hand, gently massaging the tense muscles in a slow, relaxing rhythm that had Emily all but purring after a few minutes. The dark profiler melted against her as she drifted off, her face nuzzling into JJ's neck and her arm wrapped tightly around the blonde's waist. JJ kept up the massage for a long time after Emily had fallen asleep, the contact easing some of the built up tension in her gut and helping to reassure her that the older agent wouldn't be in as much pain when she woke. Finally she stopped, just listening to the sound of breathing in her ear and reflecting on how it would feel to never hold Emily like this again, to have some guy, or Will, in bed with her instead. The thought was sickening to say the least, and her hand tightened convulsively on the thigh under it. No, she decided. Will wasn't worth losing this. Nothing could be, but as she remembered the wounded expression on Emily's face as she conveyed Will's message, she became very afraid that she didn't have a choice in the matter. She'd screwed up badly, and now she had to heal the damage that mistake had caused. The alternative was too unbearable to contemplate.

**Date and Time: October 7, 2007 13:12**

**Location: Emily Prentiss' Condo, Outskirts of Washington D.C.**

Emily groaned at the sound of a knock at her door, opening her eyes to find herself on her couch where she vaguely remembered falling asleep last night. She started to sit up, then groaned again, her head reminding her that it had been in the path of a two by four yesterday.

"Prentiss?"

Hotch's voice. She sighed, knowing she needed to get up and answer the door. She managed to get to her feet, but she had to brace herself against the couch to keep from falling or throwing up. She'd forgotten just how much concussions hurt.

"Agent Prentiss?"

The voice was more concerned this time, accompanied by a sharper knock. Despite the pain and grogginess she smiled, wondering if it'd be easier to just let Hotch break in rather than get to the door herself.

"Emily?"

That was not Hotch's voice, and it made her straighten unconsciously and reach up to try to tame her hair. JJ had been worried yesterday, but they hadn't been able to talk much after the case. She should have expected the blonde to show up today. A glance at the clock told her she'd slept in much too late, and in the short moment they'd had to talk last night JJ had made her promise to call in the morning. So had the liaison called Hotch, had it been the other way around, or had they just happened to show up at the same time?

"Emily?!"

The note of panic in JJ's voice was enough to propel her to the door, which she opened to find, as she had expected, Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau. Emily leaned against the door frame, pushing the door open wider and gesturing them in. She didn't want them to see her in this condition, but since she didn't have any real choice in the matter she needed to try to make the most of it. Hotch took one look at her and strode past into the condo, but JJ paused in front of her, closing the door behind herself as her blue eyes examined Emily's face.

"You look like hell," the blonde observed matter-of-factly, and despite herself the profiler smiled. The blonde smiled back, but the expression was shadowed with concern. Emily allowed her friend to lead her back to the living area, where she sat down in one of the cushy armchairs while Hotch sat across from her and JJ took a seat on the couch. She watched them both in silence, waiting to hear why they'd come and in too much pain to deal with niceties.

"Didn't you get a script for pain killers, Prentiss?" Hotch asked quietly, as if aware that even a normal speaking voice would be too much for her right then.

"Yes sir," she replied readily, "I just haven't filled it, and I don't intend to."

"Agent Prentiss," he started chidingly, but JJ cut him off.

"Emily, you were hit in the head with a damn two by four. Give me the prescription and I'll call it in and pick it up for you."

The brunette tried to say no, to tell her friend that she didn't need it, but between the liaison's fierce expression and Hotch's amused glance in JJ's direction, she decided it wasn't worth it and started to dig around in her pocket. She groaned when she tried to move, however, realizing only then how stupid it had been to just flop down in the chair. She was not in a comfortable position, and now she was paying for it. JJ's expression softened, and the blonde got up, leaning over her and sliding a hand into her cargo pants. Emily shivered, unaccustomed to such close contact. She could smell JJ's shampoo and the fragrant body wash she used, and for just a moment she forgot that she was in pain and probably had a concussion. When her friend pulled back, the prescription in her hand, it all came rushing back. It must have shown on her face, because as soon as the liaison took a look at her she was pulling out her phone and pacing the room, muttering under her breath all the while.

"Damn stubborn woman, won't even get some damn pain killers after being hit in the head by a damn serial killer. All it would take was a damn phone call, get someone to drop it off. I would have done it last night, damn it. If she says she's not going to take the damn pills I'll shove them down her throat myself."

She trailed off as the pharmacist or whoever was on the other end of the line picked up, her blazing blue eyes fixed on Emily's as she put in the order, only distracted once when Hotch told her to use his authorization to have a rush put on it.

"I'm going to go get your meds," the blonde growled when she got off the phone, "and when I get back, you are going to shut up and take them. Are we clear?"

The profiler nodded, deciding arguing with JJ might be more hazardous to her health than the two-by-four had been. The press liaison strode out, leaving Emily to turn her attention to her supervisor, giving him a questioning look. He smiled faintly, cocking his head in the direction of the door.

"She called me," he offered quietly, "and I'm glad she did, Prentiss. You should have called in that prescription. Any member of this team would have picked it up for you, including me."

She sighed, aware her supervisor had a good point, but...

"Have you talked to your mother?"

Emily flinched, unable to meet Hotch's hawk-like gaze, which had turned from amused to piercing in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded slowly, but didn't say anything, obviously expecting more information. The brunette considered not answering the silent questions, then gave in with a sigh. She owed this man more than what he was asking for.

"She wasn't happy," she murmured, the quirk of Hotch's dark eyebrow conveying his understanding of just how much of an understatement that had been, "I couldn't tell if she was more upset that I had been hurt or that I had gone back to the BAU right when I was about to do what she wanted me to. It doesn't really matter either way. My mother and I are clearly not going to agree on what I should be doing with my life."

Hotch watched her in silence for a moment longer, then leaned back a bit, the tension in his face relaxing a little.

"So you still want me to make sure you retain your position on the team, right?"

She hesitated, knowing what he was offering. Right here, right now, she could back out, leave the BAU, and he would support her. This was the only way he could show his appreciation for what she had done, she realized, and the thought made her smile faintly, despite the pain that was still making itself very much at home in her skull. Emily thought about what it would feel like not to have to face the carnage and destruction, and the disappointment of her family, and had to admit that would be nice. Then she considered the flip side, and how she would feel to leave something she had only just begun to really feel like she was a part of. She thought about the faces of her colleagues, the people who had become a second family to her, and faced the knowledge that even if she left the BAU, her family, her parents in particular, would still be disappointed in her. She was too different, too stubborn... And, if she were honest, too much like her mother. Lastly she thought of what it would feel like to face JJ. She hadn't forgotten the look on the younger woman's face when she'd walked in the door. Had there not been a table and a murder case between them, JJ just might have tackled her and never let go, or at least that was the impression she'd gotten. That moment, that look, had told her the choice to go to Milwaukee had been right, and had sustained her until she'd gotten home and spoken to her mother.

"I can't leave, Hotch," she declared quietly, the choice made without even a conscious realization of it, "I've sacrificed too much to get where I am, and I'm just starting to really settle in. My mother will just have to get over it, like she has everything else."

Hotch snorted, knowing as well as she did that Elizabeth Prentiss had never gotten over her daughter's "rebellious" choices. What he said next, however, surprised her enough that she all but forgot about her mother and her conflicts with her family.

"You aren't staying just for someone else's sake, are you?" the Unit Chief asked guardedly, and not for the first time Emily wondered if he really did have the ability to read people's minds.

 "You know, it's really creepy when you do that," she remarked, too tired and in too much pain to censor the comment. He surprised her again by laughing softly, but his eyes told her the question was sincere, and he needed an answer.

"JJ's the best friend I have," the brunette almost whispered, meeting his yellow-brown eyes in hopes that he  _could_  see what she didn't know how to say, "and I will admit that she's one of my reasons to stay, but she's far from the only one. The whole team has been wonderful to me, and I think the least I can do to repay that is to stick it out with them, especially now that Gideon is apparently gone. Things are shaky enough without me making it worse."

He nodded, giving her another of his small, slow smiles.

"For what it's worth, Prentiss, I'm glad you're staying. We couldn't have done what we did without you, and I know I don't say this often, but I fully believe you've more than earned your position on the team. You're a damn good profiler, and it'd be a shame to lose you."

"I second that," JJ's voice remarked from the door, followed by the liaison herself. She was carrying a small white bag and larger brown one that must have been heavy if the way the blonde was struggling to keep it balanced was any indication. Out of habit and instinct Emily started to get up to help, but the pain she'd almost forgotten in light of the rare and glowing compliments returned with a vengeance, leaving her reeling. She must have lost a little time, because the next thing Emily knew Hotch was in the kitchen area and JJ was kneeling over her, her blue eyes concerned and slightly annoyed, and as Emily became more aware, she realized her friend was once again muttering to herself.

"-born woman, you'll get yourself killed before you- Oh!"

The blonde fell silent, her hands more than making up for her lack of speech as they gently eased her back into the leather chair, tipping her head back in the process. Once she figured out what JJ was doing, the profiler wanted to tell her she could take her own medication, but something in her friend's eyes kept her quiet. If nothing else, it felt good to be taken care of, especially after her mother's response to finding out she'd been injured. Ambassador Prentiss had all but said she was on her own unless she planned on moving back into her parents' home, and Emily was not about to do any such thing. So she had tossed the phone aside, plopped down on the couch, and fallen asleep, hoping tomorrow she'd wake up and things would be better. And, if she were honest, things were. As JJ gently pressed the pills and then a cup of water to her lips, she realized, for the first time in her life, she had someone who would take care of her. It was... nice. But she knew it couldn't be permanent, and that part of her mind that always kept her from getting close to people chimed in, reminding her of the past, both recent and otherwise.

"I'm okay," she murmured after swallowing, "Just moved a little too fast."

The blonde frowned, and Emily noticed a touch of hurt in her face. She sighed inwardly, remembering how she had all but dismissed her friend's concern yesterday. That was before the adrenaline had worn off, and before the talk with her mother. She needed to be taken care of, she decided. She needed to let her friend do for her what she had done for JJ. It was just that simple, and that was probably how JJ saw things too.

"Thank you."

The two simple words made the press liaison smile slowly and gently squeeze her hand. Emily relaxed in her chair, the pain starting to ease. It made her wonder if some of the pain had been tension cause by her talk with her mother. It made sense, and she growled inwardly, angry with herself for letting the Ambassador affect her so strongly. She knew what to expect by now, after all, and she only had herself to blame for letting herself hope things would change.

"Anytime," JJ whispered, her hand brushing Emily's arm as she rose, turning to their boss, who was striding back in from the kitchen.

"Hotch, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to stay here. Thanks for the ride. I'll call a cab when I need to leave."

That startled the dark woman, and she turned to Hotch, who looked back impassively.

"I think that's a good idea, JJ," he replied quietly, "Prentiss shouldn't be alone right now. Head injuries are unpredictable. If you need anything, give me a call. And if it looks like that headache and dizziness are going to last, call me and I'll drive you both to the hospital so she can get a CT scan."

"Thanks, Hotch," the liaison murmured, smiling softly, but Emily had noticed an odd change in the Unit Chief's behavior. He should have been home with his wife and son, not waiting on the summons of his agents.

"Sir... Are you sure Haley won't mind?" she asked cautiously, realizing that the medication must have been kicking in as she spoke. The pain was slowly fading, and her mind was clearing. JJ's blue eyes locked on their supervisor, and Prentiss could see her figuring out what she had already guessed.

"Haley... isn't at home," Hotch answered reluctantly, his yellow-brown eyes shifting away from them. Emily had to force herself not to stare. So Haley had left him, probably for coming back to the BAU. No wonder he was so understanding and sympathetic to her troubles. His own beloved family was gone, slipping further out of his reach.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

It was all she could say, and she thought her boss knew it. He nodded, looking pained and uncomfortable. She didn't blame him. He wasn't used to being the one receiving the sympathy, and certainly not from his subordinates. She didn't think he would have accepted it from her had it been even a day ago. But this was today, and she had proven herself to him in some undefinable way. He didn't chide her or worse, reprimand her. He just straightened, looking down at the two agents with a stoic expression that didn't quite hide his grief.

"Don't forget to make sure Prentiss eats," he remarked, then turned away, walking across the apartment and out the door. JJ turned to her, silently asking a question she wasn't sure how to answer.

"I think he still needs to process," she offered quietly, and the blonde nodded, visibly shifting her focus from the problem she could do nothing about to the one she was here to see to. Emily laughed to herself even as the medication started to take hold, making her sleepy as the pain faded. JJ had a look in her eye that told the brunette she was in for some serious pampering, and maybe a little punishment for her recklessness. That was okay, though. From JJ, and for JJ, she could take it.


	10. Repression

**_Repression_ :** The psychological act of excluding desires and impulses (wishes, fantasies, or feelings) from one's consciousness and

holding or subduing them in the unconscious mind. Commonly recognized as a defense mechanism.

Almost inevitably what is repressed will surface and may even affect day to day life.

**Date and Time: March 22, 2008, 09:17 (Mountain Time)**

**Location: Home of Keira Datton, Mountains of Western Montana**

"Morning!" a voice called as Emily and JJ pulled up in of their rented SUV and parked behind the vehicle that was already parked there, getting out into the cold mountain air. This time they had come prepared for the biting chill, and the brunette smiled to herself at the memory of a worried Jennifer trying to bundle her up until she couldn't move. They had finally compromised on a thick, long-sleeve red shirt, a dark blue turtleneck sweater, and her long black winter overcoat over heavy denim jeans and brown and black hiking boots, as well as a pair of fleece-lined black leather gloves. It's not like she could blame her companion for worrying considering she'd been in bed with a fever for most of the previous week. She shook her head, refusing to weigh herself down with thoughts of last weekend's events, instead turning her attention to the owner of the voice. He was a big man, at least six foot five, and he had the build of a lumberjack, muscle rippling visibly under his thick flannel shirt. His face was weather-beaten under a heavy red beard and his hand when he shook the profiler's was heavily calloused and rough, noticeable even through her gloves, and had clearly seen hard labor. Despite all the evidence of rough living his green eyes were merry and his smile broad and open, almost innocent.

"You must be the young ladies I spoke to on the phone after that poor kid passed on," he remarked, reaching out to shake JJ's hand, which was dwarfed by his large one. The blonde nodded, gesturing to Emily and then herself.

"This is Emily, and I'm JJ."

He gave them both long looks as if he was committing their names and faces to memory before making a little noise of pleasure that contradicted his massive size and waving them toward the cabin.

"I'm John Crest, but you already knew that. Most folks out here just call me Johnny, and I welcome you lovely girls to do the same."

The two FBI agents smiled at each other, liking the big hunter immediately. He was so unlike most of the people they met in their line of work, and the militia they had met in other parts of Montana. It was a pleasant change.

"I got a letter from the kid telling me you folks might be coming out, so imagine my surprise when I hear she's dead," he went on in a mournful tone as he led them up the walk. Emily hesitated a moment, looking around.

"We're supposed to meet some of our colleagues," she commented, trying to figure out if the pickup truck she'd parked them behind was Johnny's or not. He followed her gaze and grinned, shaking his grizzled head.

"Your friends are already here," he explained, one of his big hands gesturing to what looked like a small stable tucked behind the cabin, "I rode down on my own. Gives the dogs somethin' to do better than grievin' for their girl."

That made sense, Emily agreed, content to follow him to a gate on the side of the cabin, hearing the sounds of voices and dogs before she had even walked through. Jennifer hesitated just slightly, her blue eyes faintly fearful. Emily saw Johnny notice the look and stride over to the much smaller woman, putting one of his big hands on her shoulder, urging her to meet his gaze.

"Miss, them dogs are the sweetest creatures the Almighty ever put on this good Earth, even when they miss their girl somethin' fierce like now. They wouldn't harm nothin' that wasn't trying to harm someone, nor somethin' that didn't need harming."

The liaison looked up into the gentle man's kind eyes and nodded, straightening her shoulders and walking up to Emily with a determined stride. The brunette watched her come, smiling affectionately as she lightly brushed her friend's back and the blonde gave her a small, grateful look. The tension that had marred their interactions in the last week faded away for the moment and they were simply two very close friends, though not quite lovers, all over again. Emily leaned over, adjusting Jennifer's long coat to ease the sudden desire to hug the younger woman to her and never let go. JJ must have seen the sudden vulnerability because she wrapped an arm around the profiler's waist, providing warmth and comfort. Johnny had watched the interaction with an easy grin, showing no signs of disgust or disapproval as he opened the gate and ushered them in.

"Prentiss, JJ, about time you showed up!" Rossi called as they came around the corner into his line of sight. They both stopped, needing a moment to take stock of what they saw. Rossi was sitting on the cabin's back steps, his hands buried in thick black fur and his face being thoroughly washed by what looked like a very large black wolf. The stocky Italian was smiling widely, an expression of contentment and pleasure on his face. Neither woman could remember ever seeing him so relaxed or happy, and they took the time to just experience Rossi without his constant haunted, jaded expression.

"Jennifer, I don't think Ze'ev is going to bite you," Emily observed, trying very hard not to laugh. She slipped a small device out of her pocket and silently thanked Garcia for the loan of the pen camera as she shot pictures of the man and dog, well aware that no one on their team would believe this without photographic evidence. Looking around, she caught sight of something that would have made her jaw drop had she not caught herself. Aaron Hotchner, master of the suit and tie and the deadly hawk glare, was on his knees wrestling with a big silver husky, the dirt on his jeans and fleece sweater evidence he'd been playing with the dog for at least a few minutes. She glanced up, meeting Rossi's amused gaze before hurriedly snapping as many pictures as she could before Hotch realized they were there. When he did look up he made an effort to put his tough, stern mask in place, but the effect was ruined as Shal took advantage of his distraction and pushed him into the dirt. He laughed, getting up and roughly petting the big puppy, oblivious to Emily clicking away with the pen camera.

"As I said, Miss," Johnny commented quietly to JJ, standing right behind the two women with a gentle smile on his craggy face, "them dogs aren't gonna hurt anyone."

Emily smiled up at him in silent thanks for reassuring her friend before turning her attention back to Hotch, who was leading Shal over. That was smart, she decided. It was much better for JJ to be introduced to the smaller dog, though small was a relative term, first. She tugged on her friend's arm, getting her to kneel at her side so they were on the dog's level and hold out a hand for the puppy to sniff. Shal examined them both, her intense blue eyes reminding Emily a bit of the woman at her side. The husky gently nudged JJ's arm, making the blonde jump slightly. The puppy's ears and arcing tail drooped as if the canine realized that Jennifer was afraid of her and was hurt by that. The sadness in those eyes touched Emily's heart, and they must have reached her companion too because the blonde hesitantly reached out to scratch the silver husky behind the ear. Shal immediately perked up again, her tail wagging slowly. A charmed grin crossed Jennifer's face, and Emily smiled at the sight, making sure to take pictures of that too. Garcia, Morgan, and Reid hadn't been able to join them, and she had made the brunette promise that she'd take  _a lot_  of pictures. Now that she was here and saw the impact the canines had made on her teammates, she was more than happy to keep that promise. Already she was planning an album of pictures from this and what she hoped would be future good times for the team.

"That's a good dog," Hotch praised with a smile, unaware of Emily's distraction, making Shal's tail wag even faster. The puppy licked JJ's face, making the blonde jump in surprise, but not, Emily noticed, from fear. The blue eyes turned on her next, and she smiled warmly, running a hand through the thick silvery fur, surprised by just how soft the puppy was. Shal gave her a lick too, then was distracted by Rossi calling her name. She hesitated a moment, looking at both women curiously before turning and bounding over to the Italian. Hotch laughed as he watched Shal all but knock the other agent over, turning back to them as they stood up again, brushing dirt from their pants.

"They really are good dogs," he observed, his expression, like Rossi's, startlingly open and warm, as well as a bit wistful, "If I could, I'd take them home myself."

With that he jogged away, joining Rossi in a game of catch with Shal and Ze'ev, both big dogs romping playfully.

"I get the impression that he doesn't smile like that much," Johnny commented, stepping around the women and turning back to face them, "but that's somethin' dogs are good at. There's a reason they call 'em 'man's best friend.' A dog can heal all kinds'a hurts, even the ones you didn't know were there."

With that he strode away, heading for the stable and the big chestnut stallion there. Emily turned her attention to Jennifer, wondering if she really was coping as well as she seemed with what had been an overwhelming terror of dogs to find her watching the two grown men, experienced and jaded federal agents both, playing fetch with the dogs and laughing like little kids at a party. The blonde was shaking with silent laughter, but she sobered abruptly, aware of Emily's gaze but not turning to meet it.

"Hey Em..."

The brunette waited, seeing that her friend was working through something in her head and knowing better than to interrupt when Jennifer was thinking this hard and obviously struggling with whatever the subject was.

"It's probably hard for them," the liaison continued after a moment of thoughtful silence, her blue eyes fixed on the scene before her with surprising intensity, "being here without Keira. I know people say dogs don't remember much, but I don't believe that. I grew up around dogs, and they always knew when someone died or moved away. That's why it was so hard to kill Hankel's dogs, even though they were coming at me. I know they have feelings of their own."

Emily nodded patiently, knowing JJ could see it even if she didn't acknowledge the gesture, waiting for the rest. Jennifer blinked once, then turned to look up at her, confusion and remembered sadness and fear written in every line of her face as she searched the older woman's dark eyes.

"I have that big piece of land along with the house, you know," she went on finally, "It's all fenced in, and I don't use it for anything. I thought about getting horses or something, but..."

She trailed off, shaking her head slowly.

"Maybe we could take Shal and Ze'ev there," she finished in a rush, turning away from Emily as if she was afraid of Emily's response, "at least until we find them homes. Johnny was right. They're good dogs, and I think it'd be horrible to separate them, and it might be a while before we find someone who can take on two big dogs like that and-"

"Jennifer," the brunette interrupted, gently breaking through her companion's babble, masking her surprise both at the idea and at the nervousness JJ was displaying when asking for her opinion, "I think that's a great idea. Hotch and Rossi have obviously bonded with them, and I think it's only fair that the others should meet them. If they're so good with those two, Reid, Morgan and Garcia are going to have to fall in love with them."

The blonde turned her head so fast Emily was afraid she was going to get whiplash. Part of her heart broke at the sight, and she sighed inwardly. The last week had been hard, even with the high fever she'd had taken out of the picture. JJ had been quiet and tense constantly, and Emily had been too sick and too confused to talk about it. Jennifer had taken care of her with the same devotion and care she'd shown since the Samis incident, and that had added to her confusion. She hadn't known what to feel, and her fevered mind had spun with worst and best case scenarios. Now, however, she wasn't feverish, though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't confused. For now, though, Emily just smiled, taking hold of her friend's arm and leading her over to Ze'ev and Rossi, promising herself they'd talk later.

"You're right about having all that space," she continued as she walked, keeping her other thoughts to herself for now, "and I bet it wouldn't be too hard to get our big tough males here to build some sort of dog house for them if you're not comfortable having them in the house."

"Dog house?" Rossi asked, catching the last piece of their conversation, "Does someone need a dog house?"

Emily laughed, holding out a hand to Ze'ev, who seemed calmer than Shal, but that was probably just his age. She was glad, though. He was so big that if he jumped up he would probably be able to get his massive paws onto her shoulders and knock her over without meaning to.

"Well," Jennifer answered hesitantly, "I was thinking about taking the dogs to my place. I'm the only one who has enough space for them, but even if it's just temporary I'd hate to have them outside without any shelter. They're too big and active to be indoor dogs, though."

Rossi nodded thoughtfully as he stood up, then he grinned. He hadn't been there for the Hankel case, but he'd heard the story from Hotch and bits and pieces from the others. He was certainly bright enough to know how hard it would be for Jennifer to suggest what she had.

"I want to show you something," he explained, then focused on the big dog, holding out his hand, pointing down.

"Ze'ev, sit," he commanded, and the dog sat immediately, his golden eyes fixed on the Italian profiler as he ordered, "shake!"

Z lifted his right paw and placed it in Rossi's outstretched hand. The agent praised him vigorously, scratching behind his big ears before commanding, "Paw!"

The dog dropped his right paw and lifted his left, repeating the gesture and getting more praise, much to his evident pleasure. His big, arcing tail wagged, and his eyes were bright and alert, big ears perked up.

"Down!" Rossi ordered, palm facing down. He dropped to his belly, his tail wagging faster now. Obviously this was a familiar game to him.

"Roll!"

Ze'ev rolled over, coming back up into a seated position and waiting, his whole body a mass of contained canine energy just waiting to be let loose. It was impressive, but didn't exactly explain the twinkle in Rossi's eyes. Then he said something unexpected.

"Ze'ev, phone."

The big dog tilted his head, but just when Emily was thinking there was no way he understood he nosed the phone clipped to Rossi's side. She laughed delightedly, finding herself on the end of that golden stare. Emily was surprised by how much he resembled wolves she had seen in zoo's and in the mountains when she had visited with her grandfather. Ze'ev had all the lines of a wolf, for all he was bigger than any she had seen, but the difference in his expression was the most noticeable. Wolves were intelligent animals, she knew, and wild ones looked at humans with mixed fear and disdain. Z's gaze was intelligent, certainly, but there was an easiness about the dog that had always been lacking in wolves, and a joyful, playful nature humans rarely got to see in the wild creatures.

"How many things can he identify?" she asked curiously, kneeling down to scratch the canine's ears and neck. JJ joined her after a moment, making the big dog writhe in pleasure at the twin carresses. The Italian smiled, looking between the two women with an expression as proud as if he had trained Ze'ev himself.

"I'm not sure. I asked Johnny, and he said both dogs know about two dozen common house items that he knows of. Apparently Ze'ev's previous owner also trained him to hunt, and more importantly to track. He showed me the dogs' paperwork. Both of them have had rescue training and some guidance and guard training. Shal is a purebred husky, but Big Z here is part wolf, which makes him a natural choice for a hunting or rescue dog."

"Can he find things or do they have to be right there?" JJ asked, getting into the conversation now with far more enthusiasm than she'd displayed so far. Once again Rossi grinned, obviously enjoying showing off the wolf-dog's abilities.

"Ze'ev," he called, returning the dog's attention to himself immediately, "bring rope."

Once again Z tilted his head, apparently considering the request, then made a huffing sound and bounded off in the direction of the stables. They watched him go, the two women both surprised and impressed as he not only located a coil of rope, used his size and an incredible amount of dexterity for a creature who could only use his mouth to ease it off the hook it was on and run back to Dave with it in his mouth. He didn't drop it at the man's feet, though. Instead he set it in Rossi's hand, sitting back as if waiting for more commands.

"Johnny said Shal isn't quite as good at it as Ze'ev because she's smaller and still young for this kind of training, but she can do some things like that," the profiler explained.

"Why not just drop it, though?" JJ wondered aloud, earning a surprised look from Rossi and a warm one from Emily. It made the profiler happy to see Jennifer acting more like her old self rather than the tense, fearful shadow she'd been lately, though at no point had Emily rebuked her for what happened. She didn't know how she felt about it, so how could she lash out at her friend? She didn't even know if she could really say what had happened wasn't in some part her own fault.

"He's been trained for rescue," the Italian reminded them, ignoring the distant expression on Emily's face if he noticed it, reaching down to pet the animal affectionately, "and in an emergency the rope wouldn't do me any good on the ground."

They had to concede that, but it was impressive that someone took the time and effort to train a dog to understand that. Dogs weren't really good at thinking in the abstract, and everything Emily knew about dog training said that in order to teach a dog to do something complicated, the trainer had to be patient with the animal's limitations and teach them that what they were doing was something the human wanted.

"Shamira and Keira must have really loved these dogs," Hotch commented in an uncanny echo of Emily's thoughts, striding over with Shal, "They're well groomed, well fed, and incredibly well trained."

He was about to say more, but at the sound of the women's names the two dogs' tails dropped low and they both laid down, Ze'ev resting his head on Shal's back. The motion interrupted him and anything the other agents might have said in response. Realizing what he'd done, Aaron sighed, kneeling down to stroke the big canines apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he murmured gently, "You miss them, huh?"

Rossi watched in silence for a moment then walked into the cabin, coming back a few moments later with two bowls of dog food, which he set down in front of Ze'ev and Shal, watching mournfully as the animals ate half-heartedly.

"Dogs always feel better with food in their stomachs," he explained with the tone of someone who had a great deal of experience, "kind of like humans. They're great companion animals, but anyone who says dogs don't have feelings is an idiot. Dogs are incredibly happy most of the time, but it's easy to hurt their feelings. Dogs are especially sensitive to their people, too. They may not understand what happened to their people, but they know that they aren't here and they miss them. It hurts, and a hurting dog is a dog that needs to be loved even more."

The other agents couldn't argue with that, and they sat together with the dogs while they ate and then cuddled up together. Emily was a little startled by the depth of Rossi's empathy for the animals. He had never shown quite that much compassion with any human they'd met, but these dogs seemed to tug on his heart.

"We should let them get some rest," Hotch decided aloud, gesturing for his agents to precede him into the cabin, "while we discuss what to do."

Johnny rejoined them as they sat down in the living area of the home, his ruddy face sad as he looked around.

"I never got the chance to know the kid too well," he remarked quietly, "but she treated me as well as any neighbor could ask, and she was always happy to help out where it was needed. She was good people, and I for one think the world lost a mighty fine soul when she died."

Jennifer trembled faintly in her seat beside Emily, and the brunette turned to her, understanding the reaction. They met a lot of different kinds of people in their line of work, people at their worst, best, and everything in-between. One of the skills required of the BAU agents was the ability to detach from these people, to empathize without giving too much of themselves, and for the most part they were all very good at it. Sometimes, though, certain people and cases would stand out, and Keira had been one of those people. Emily and JJ in particular had grown attached to the young writer, and sitting here in her house once again, talking about her in the past tense and seeing the grief in her beloved dogs brought home just how much of an impact she'd had on their lives and memories.

"She was an outstanding human being," Rossi agreed, his eyes on the grieving profiler and liaison, "and none of us are going to be forgetting her, I'm sure."

"No," Jennifer admitted for Emily's ears only, "I don't think we will. We owe her too much to do that."

Emily agreed, grateful for the blonde's arm around her as she remembered the quiet woman who had given up everything to atone for sins no one had any right to place on the strong but bent shoulders. Had she lived, Emily knew she would have done everything in her power to help Keira find her life again, the life that had been stolen twice over by Jenna Odari, once during their relationship and again when Odari had killed Shamira.

"Did you ever meet Shamira Resman?" Jennifer asked, as if aware of the turn Emily's thoughts had taken. Johnny glanced at her, then nodded slowly, his green eyes becoming dull with grief.

"Never seen love like that before," he answered thoughtfully, looking off into the distance as if seeing his memories there, "Always knew there was somethin' odd about that Shamira, but I never did find out what. I can tell you that she would have gone to hell and back if the kid had asked. Ms. Resman was a stubborn, proud sort, just like the kid, but fragile, too. Both of them had this way about them, like someone had gone and broken their hearts. When they were together, though, it was like nothin' could touch 'em. Ms. Resman would smile at the kid sometimes, and it was the most heart warmin' thing you ever saw. You just knew those two were meant to be, you know? Like the other filled in the part that had been missing all along."

The hunter wiped at his eyes, clearly unashamed to be crying in front of the federal agents as he added, "When the kid lost Ms. Resman, she was never the same. She rarely smiled any more, and I'd catch her cryin' sometimes when I came down to see her. She'd always try to hide it, but I knew she died a lil every day Ms. Resman wasn't there. She tried for the dogs, but she jus' couldn't be alive without her other half. Only talked to me about it the one time, just a few days a'fore she died. She said she had some things she couldn't stop regrettin'. Said not letting herself love that woman sooner was the biggest mistake she ever made, and she had made some big ones. Ain't a man or woman alive who can tell me those two aren't in heaven together as we speak. I was taught that a woman lovin' another woman like that is an abomination of Satan's, but I know better after meetin' them. The love them ladies had was gift from the good Lord himself. The Devil has no place in that, nor does anyone have any right to say other than that."

Jennifer shook against her, visibly fighting to keep her emotions contained, and Emily could barely keep herself from crying. The big man had touched both their hearts with his speech, and his sincere honesty made it harder still to control herself.

"Aww, Lord, I'm sorry," Johnny mumbled, seeing the varied but powerful reactions of the FBI agents, sitting down in a big leather chair, his already ruddy face almost matching his beard, "didn't mean to get all emotional on you lot. Bein' in her house makes me 'member all kindsa things and I run off at the mouth a bit."

"It's all right," Rossi replied, shaking his head to dismiss the apology as unnecessary, "We didn't have much time to know her, but she reached all of us in some way. An unusual young woman."

Johnny smiled sadly, then squared his broad shoulders, visibly determined to talk about something else.

"So you're interested in taking the dogs?" he asked, looking around the small group. JJ was the one to answer in the affirmative, voicing her concern about leaving them alone for long periods while they were out on cases. At that the hunter became thoughtful, then shrugged.

"Z and Shal are good company to one another, and they've been alone before when young Keira went off on trips for her writing. She'd have me come check on them when I could to reassure them and make sure they had plenty of food and water, but they can get by on their own if they have to."

"But after losing Keira and Shamira, won't they-"

"Be worried about losing you too?" Crest asked, following the blonde's train of thought. Jennifer nodded, and he considered that.

"They might," he conceded finally, "but you know, if you keep coming home to them I think they'll be all right. The best thing would be if you could get someone to come by and see them, so they know they're not alone. They're pack animals after all, and like to know they're still a part of the pack, even when not all the members are there."

Emily found herself wondering who they could trust enough to come to the house and check on the dogs, then she grinned, coming up with a solution.

"What about Garcia? She usually stays at home when we travel, and she could check on them whenever she gets a chance."

JJ smiled in return, though the dark woman knew she was still being haunted by Johnny's words and memories of Keira.

"It's a good idea, if she likes the dogs and she agrees."

The discussion turned to planning how to ship the dogs across a large part of the country, and to everyone's surprise it was Hotch who suggested they take them in the BAU jet. When looked at in askance by the rest of his team he explained the process involved. The dogs would have to be sedated for the trip, but the plane would get them to their new home faster than any other method, and would not be nearly as difficult to manage as driving them across the country or flying commercially. The decision was made when Johnny pointed out that Ze'ev had already flown across the country once before, and he had apparently handled it well. Rossi and Hotch launched into a debate about the best sort of outdoor shelter for the dogs, which Johnny joined with enthusiasm. While they were sketching out ideas the two women smiled at each other and rose, silently agreeing that they wanted to look around. They found the promised copies of  _Fracture_ 's sequel displayed prominently on the young writer's desk, and in what was obviously Keira's room they found a series of black and white photographs decorating the walls, all of natural scenes. Several must have been taken in the surrounding mountains, and some couldn't have been, but they were all beautiful.

"I think Shamira might have taken these," JJ murmured, looking at the pictures. At Emily's confused glance she pointed to one in particular, one of a lightning storm over desert.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that picture was taken anywhere in this country. It looks more like pictures I've seen of the Middle East."

The profiler moved so she was right behind JJ, leaning past her to get a closer look. Her eyes widened as she realized her companion was right. She had _been_  to the place the picture had been taken. She couldn't think of the name off-hand, but she recognized the mountains in the background and the ruins visible along one edge.

"Pictures Shamira took, but none of Resman herself," she noted aloud, looking around again to be sure. Jennifer nodded, turning her head to meet the dark eyes.

"She couldn't look at Shamira all the time," she guessed, though her tone made it sound like she was speaking from personal experience, "but she needed something of the woman she loved around her. These pictures were probably Shamira's way of expressing herself, like writing was to Keira."

The blonde paused, searching Emily's face. The profiler was suddenly very aware of her proximity to the younger woman. They were standing so close they were touching, something she hadn't noticed before due to the many layers between them. Now that she was paying attention, though, she found she could smell Jennifer's conditioner and had to fight the urge to bury her face in the long blonde hair just in front of her.

"I wonder how hard it was to live in this place together, to share meals and time and space and maybe even a bed and never be able to reach over and touch the other person?" Jennifer whispered, never looking away and barely blinking as she spoke, "Keira said she never told Shamira she loved her. How hard must that have been to live with? She never forgave herself for that, even though no one could blame her for being scared."

Sensing the shift in both their moods, Emily wrapped her arms tightly around the liaison's waist, trying to find something to say.

"Everyone has fears," she murmured finally, "and everyone has some reason for it, rational or not. Keira didn't know how little time she was going to have with Shamira. Maybe if she had things would have been different, but maybe not. Maybe it would have made her more afraid to lose what she didn't think she should have in the first place."

Silence fell between them, and the brunette found herself thinking through everything she was afraid of, wondering where the line was between rational and irrational fear.

"I don't know why I'm so afraid, Emily," Jennifer whispered suddenly after the silence had become thick and heavy around them, "All I know is I'm terrified all the time. Last weekend I made a horrible mistake because of that fear, and now things are so twisted... I don't know what to do. I don't know what I have the right to ask from you. I don't know if I'm more scared because I think you should have run for the hills after what I did or because I know what I'll feel if you actually do."

"Tell me," Emily urged, feeling as if Keira and Shamira were watching them, pressing them to speak where they hadn't been able to before. No case had ever haunted them like this one had, and now its real impact, something they had both tried hard to ignore, was materializing. They couldn't hide from one another, not in this house, not when the sorrow and loss that had been experienced here was right there, impossible to ignore.

"You're so beautiful, Emily."

The quiet comment startled her, and she searched the blue eyes gazing up at her, wondering how that answered her question. JJ smiled wanly, gripping the arms around her waist.

"You are," the blonde insisted, probably seeing the hint of doubt behind Emily's eyes, "and that's just the problem. I look at you, and you're so beautiful, so together. I see the other side, too, the part that has nightmares and cries in the dark, afraid to see those walls, that place again. But you're still so damn beautiful. Sometimes I start to forget that you're afraid when you smile at me. I know you want to me to believe you're not scared, but..."

"I'm scared all the time, Jennifer," Emily agreed, tightening her grip on the shorter agent, needing the comfort as she went on, finding the words as she went along, "I'm afraid of waking up and finding Samis still has me. I'm afraid of waking up and finding that you've left, that Will or someone else has taken you away. I'm afraid that one of us won't come back some day. I'm scared that I won't be strong enough, that I won't love you enough to hold us together. I'm terrified of what would happen if my mother found out, or Strauss. So I don't press. I don't push you, even when I probably should. Instead I lay next to you, wanting you so badly it hurts but not crossing that line. If I did, and you let me... There would be no going back. So I don't."

Even as she said it Emily realized it was true. She had put the ball in Jennifer's court and had never taken it back. She had pushed JJ to go to New Orleans, all but shoving her into his arms, and even so some part of her fevered mind had wanted to blame the blonde, wanted to make it all her fault, and Jennifer had let her. She'd taken the blame and the responsibility, and still she had stayed and taken care of her. She, on the other hand, had taken no responsibility. Granted she'd been sick and unable to think rationally for much of the week, but in the end that was no excuse. She should have stepped up before. Garcia had been right. JJ needed to be pushed, at least a little, so Emily had pushed her. Only it had been in the wrong direction.

"You keep being there for me," the profiler whispered, giving in this time and burying her face in Jennifer's silken hair, "I've been asking so much of you, Jennifer, and you keep giving. I never knew how big that heart of yours was."

"You're too hard on yourself," Jennifer argued, refusing to let her take on the burden that the brunette was starting to believe was rightfully her own in the first place, "You gave me everything, Em. You gave up your condo because I wanted you to live with me. You gave me your heart, and you give me so much you don't even know about."

Emily shook her head, her face still buried in blonde hair

"Jennifer, I shouldn't have pushed you at Will. All I wanted to do was tell you not to go. I wanted you to stay with me. I wanted... I want you to love _me_ , not him. I want to give you everything I am, everything I have, but I'm so afraid."

Her shoulders shook, and she felt herself losing the battle against the tears she'd felt coming earlier.

"I'm so tired of being afraid," she cried softly, clutching Jennifer as she would a lifeline, "I've been so scared all this time, Jennifer. So afraid. It was easier to push you away than let go of the fear. What if I do it again? What if I keep doing it until you're gone?"

"That won't happen."

Emily looked up at her friend, feeling the tears on her face, but unable to wipe them them away. She couldn't bring herself to let go of her anchor, not when the ghosts of Keira and Shamira seemed to hang in the heavy air, as did all her own ghosts and skeletons. The conviction in JJ's voice cut through her awareness of those specters and turned her attention back to her friend. Jennifer let go of her arm with one hand, brushing the salty fluid off her face. Where this place, this room was tearing her apart inside, it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Jennifer. The blonde's blue eyes were blazing now, and there was a confidence in her that had been lacking since the incident with Samis, and even before.

"Keira lost what could have been the best part of her life in this house," the liaison observed, almost growling as she added, "And I almost lost you in a hotel room in New Orleans. She told me not to make her mistake, and I started to anyway, even with all the evidence of the costs in front of me. So you need to know something. After that you can decide what you want to do."

Jennifer cupped the side of her face with a gentle hand, keeping Emily's eyes on the blue ones. It was necessary, since Emily's fear was starting to overwhelm her again and she wanted to just bury her face in JJ's neck and never leave that soft, warm, sweet-smelling place again.

"Emily, it's all right," the blonde murmured soothingly, stroking her face and hair, "It's all right, Em. Listen to me, sweetheart. Stop listening to the ghosts for a few minutes for me."

That last made her chuckle and brought her focus completely onto Jennifer. She didn't believe in ghosts, exactly, but her awareness of what had happened here, and what was happening in what had become her home, weighed on her more than she had realized until they had come in here, away from the other two agents and the friendly John Crest.

"Jennifer..."

A calloused finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. Once again she was aware of the distance between them, or lack thereof. Now that JJ had her full attention, she wasn't able to ignore the closeness of her.

"Emily, I need you to listen to me for a minute. You have to know something, okay?"

The profiler nodded absently, the words almost penetrating her new focus, her friend's lips, which happened to be very close. Soft laughter drew her gaze back to the blue eyes, and she blinked slowly, then blushed. Before she could apologize, JJ closed the distance between them, catching her completely off guard with a tender, loving kiss.

"Wha-" she stammered, shaking her head, "huh...?"

She blushed at her incoherency, but Jennifer just smiled, leaning her head back to get a better view of her.

"I love you, Emily Prentiss. I'm so in love with you I can't think sometimes. I've fallen for you so hard I don't want to get up again. I don't want to love someone else like this. I think you might be it for me, Em, because I don't think I could lose you and get out of it with a heart left. You've taken it all... And the most terrifying thing is I don't want it back. I just want to love you for the rest of our lives."

Emily forgot to be nervous or confused at the sound of those words. She forgot where she was and why, and who was in the next room. She would have forgotten to breathe, but Jennifer whispered the word in her ear with a chuckle. The profiler took a deep, surprised breath and lost it when the blonde kissed her again.

"Jennifer-"

"I know it's a little late," the blonde interrupted, showing some nerves now, "and I know I may not have the right after what I did, and it might be a weird place, but-"

"It's the best place."

The brunette kissed her companion more firmly, a knot of tension she hadn't been aware of unravelling in her stomach as Jennifer leaned into her, tightly gripping the arm she still held around her waist. She silently recited an old prayer in Arabic, knowing nothing in English could match it in simple elegance: " _Thank you, Allah, for my life._ "

"I wanted to tell you sooner," Jennifer was explaining softly when Emily recovered enough to realize she was talking, "but it was just..."

"Too hard," the profiler finished for her, smiling sadly. JJ nodded, looking up at her with those haunted blue eyes. Emily kissed her again, reveling in the freedom to do so. She had expected there to be some awkwardness when the moment finally came. Their first kiss could have been many things, from messy to chaste to so passionate it left them gasping and tearing at each other's clothes, but it hadn't been any of those things. It had just been right, the most natural thing in the world for them to do. The awkwardness might come later, but the brunette wasn't sure. Like all things in their relationship so far, this had been a long time in coming. Nothing they had done had been rushed or especially sudden. If anything, it had all been overdue, and she said as much. Jennifer nodded slowly, then turned in her arms, hugging her tightly. The taller woman fell into the embrace, finding that she needed to be held while the relief and wonder of the moment finally coursed through her. She found herself crying and buried her face in JJ's neck, feeling the blonde's calloused fingers carding through her hair. When she had herself under control again she straightened, knowing they needed to rejoin their colleagues before they came looking for the two women.

"You okay?" JJ asked softly, searching her face. Emily nodded, reluctantly stepping back, out of the warm arms. Without intending for it to happen her hand lingered, trailing down the liaison's arm to grasp the slightly smaller one. Jennifer smiled slowly, twining their fingers together and not letting go as they left the room and re-entered the main room. In the time they had been gone the three men had a rough sketch of a dog house, and had apparently agreed it would be built in the next week or so, and the dogs would be brought to their home next weekend. In the meantime Johnny would continue to care for them. Emily also realized that the extra week would give them some more time to figure out what to do with Keira's home. Since the plan was so well laid out, they could do nothing but agree, and with a goodbye scratch to both dogs the agents left, JJ and Emily in one car, Rossi and Hotch in the other as before. The ride back down to the mountain was silent, but not uncomfortably so. JJ's hand stayed twined with her own whenever possible, and while the tension between them hadn't been at all reduced, there was a sense now that they could afford to wait a little longer to deal with it. The brunette knew she wanted time and privacy, neither of which they'd have until they were back home. When they finally got there, both were tired and a little on edge. There had been an unexpected storm over Montana, slowing the flight home as the pilot had to fly around it, then another delay driving back through Virginia. They were both weaving a little as they walked in the house, exhaustion taking its toll on both of them. They collapsed on the couch after tossing aside their jackets in the front closet, Emily propping herself up against JJ and the blonde leaning against the arm. Jennifer sighed in quiet relief, glad to be home. The profiler squirmed a little, resting her head on her shoulder. She stroked the dark hair fanned across her companion's face, finding herself wanting to lean down and kiss the older woman. She looked for the courage and comfort she'd found in Keira's house, but it seemed to have been lost in the exhaustion and turmoil of the long trip back home.

"Jennifer?" Emily asked, looking up when her hand stilled, then started to sighed, easily able to read the confusion in Emily's face. She closed her eyes, fighting back the memories that were trying to force their way to the surface, memories she thought she'd buried completely. She could feel the profiler staring at her, wondering what was going on, but she couldn't find the words. She couldn't bring herself to go back where her mind was trying to go. It was one of the differences between them. Emily might compartmentalize, but she understood that sometimes the compartments had to be looked through and their contents dealt with. JJ didn't deal with the contents of her own locked away emotions until they blew up in her face, and now was one of those times. She just wished Emily wasn't about to become a victim of that explosion.

"It's like she said," Emily murmured suddenly, her tone making JJ open her eyes to find the other agent looking at her with an expression of almost painful understanding, though there was something else behind it the blonde wasn't sure she could read, "Jennifer... Have you ever been in love?"

The liaison felt herself flinch at the question, and she looked away, staring past her friend's face to the wall behind her. Keira continued to haunt them, even here in their home. Never had a case kept gnawing at them like this, and never had a victim torn at the hearts of the team like Keira had. It was too much for Jennifer. She just wanted to forget, but Datton had gotten a wedge into the door she hid her memories and emotions behind, and Emily had widened the gap. Now it was either face up to it or try to bury it again, which she was intelligent enough to realize would probably make things worse. She couldn't take worse. She couldn't lose Emily.

"Not really. I thought I might have been, once, but..."

She trailed off, wondering how it was possible Emily didn't know this story. Then she remembered that Emily hadn't arrived yet when it was most likely to have become an issue. Elle had been gone, and there had been no one else who would have asked. Now, any of the guys might have, but Emily... Emily would have seen through her. She would have known and she would have made JJ tell her. Rather like she was now, actually. All the brunette was doing was watching her, but those eyes made her want to open her mouth and tell a story she'd barely allowed herself to consciously remember all these years. And she would tell her, because she couldn't refuse this woman anything .

"After Elle left, we got a case in North Mammon, Pennsylvania. It was a football town, like most small towns in Pennsylvania. A friend of my aunt's came to me directly. Three female soccer players had been kidnapped. One of them had a scholarship, her ticket out of there. At first people thought they'd just gone away, but I knew better. Little by little we found more evidence that they'd been kidnapped together. They were best friends, Emily. They had grown up together, played soccer together, and did all the things high school girls did together. They were just like I used to be."

She heard her voice trembling a bit, felt Emily's hand take hers, but she pressed on, needing the profiler to understand. She needed her own mind to understand.

"That week was the football championship... And that was why the guy had taken them. He had an old grudge against the other guys on his team. So he kidnapped the girls, and told them that if they chose one to die, he'd let the other two go. They found out later that they'd have to kill her themselves. And one of them, who had been sick and would have been killed by the other, smashed in her friend's skull with a hammer to save her own life. We found them in the streets... I found them. And when they told me what had happened to them..."

JJ shook her head, remembering the terror-stricken eyes of the two survivors as vividly as if it had been just last week. She rose, gently brushing Emily's shoulder to keep her in place. It only took a moment to retrieve a framed photograph from her room and return to her friend, holding it out to her.

"This was taken my senior year of high school," she explained softly, gesturing to the two girls with her, not able to look into Emily's dark eyes as she added, "and they were my best friends. We did everything together."

She stared down at the photograph for a moment, pointing to the pretty, almost elfin brunette on her left.   "She was small, but she terrified the other team. She could be just about anywhere and they wouldn't know until it was too late."

The liaison hesitated a moment before turning her attention to the other girl, aware of Emily's curiosity without having to look at her. This girl was larger and darker, with sharper features than her other friend. Now that she looked closely, she realized that the girl from her past and the woman next to her looked somewhat alike, though Emily was, in her rather biased opinion, far more beautiful and different in her air of quiet dignity and compassion. The girl in the picture had never been that way. She had never been so calm and sure of herself, never been so... Loving... And not all of that could be attributed to her having been a teenager back then.

"And  _she_ was our goalie... And my closest friend for a long time."

JJ closed her eyes as a wave of memories she usually kept locked away hit her. She might have been overwhelmed by them, but the solidness of Emily kept her grounded. Somehow she found the strength to keep talking, to face the memories, which she'd never been able to do before. She had never wanted anyone to know, but now there was someone who had to.

"The first time we kissed, I thought I was going to faint. I was sixteen, and very dramatic back then. We were together in secret for two more years, thinking we were brave and rebellious, and so clever. Her parents caught us together... And called my parents."

Emily made a soft, sympathetic sound, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer as the blonde became more upset. JJ usually tried not to remember that period of her life. Though she was years away from the angry, broken-hearted teenager she had been, the emotion, the pain, was still there and still somehow raw. It didn't seem right that this had stayed with her so long.

"You never talked about this, did you?" her dark friend asked softly, gently stroking her hair. It felt wrong to let Emily comfort her when things were so messed up between them, but the profiler was right. She had run away from the memories and let them fester, and if she didn't deal with them now, here in the arms of the one person who  _must_  know the reasons why, she probably never would, and it would keep damaging her relationships, romantic and otherwise, and most importantly, it would keep tearing her away from Emily.

"I thought we were in love," she whispered, seeing her parent's faces as she walked in the door, "but I was just a stupid kid. She blamed it all on me, and her parents believed her. My parents wanted me to blame her, but I wouldn't. Our families never spoke again, and my parents... That was probably the only time in my life my father hit me. He was always strict, but he was so angry at the idea of his daughter being a 'deviant.' He apologized immediately, but swore that he'd shoot her if she every tried to force her 'perverted ways' on me again, and that was that. I tried calling her, but her father picked up and said the same thing my dad had. Called me a lot of names and swore I was going to hell for what I did to his daughter. I just... I couldn't believe she'd turn on me like that, and after a while I just got angry. My mom talked to me, told me that it was okay to experiment once, but that she knew I would behave myself from then on. So I did. I dated the football captain and did all that cliche stuff we see kids, and adults, do when they're from homophobic families."

"You're not a cliche," Emily reassured warmly, though her voice was threaded with rage, "but that does explain a lot. So you just dated guys after that?"

She nodded, turning to rub her face in the softness of Emily's shirt to hide the tears that threatened to fall, then froze as she remembered something else. She had sat like this with her girlfriend way back when, sharing all sorts of secrets and dreams, telling her everything she hoped to do when she got out of East Allegheny. Then all of it had ended, and she had been left with just herself. She couldn't talk to her family before the incident, and certainly not after. So she had learned to keep to herself and just focus on school and soccer. She had distanced herself from the rest of the girls on the team, and when she'd gotten to college she'd dated only rarely. When she had, any relationship she'd been in had fallen apart because the guys could never understand why she was so distant with them. Even when she had sex she hadn't been all there. It wasn't that she hadn't felt anything for the men, or that the sex had been bad. She just couldn't connect with anyone, male or female. Isolation had become such a habit by then that very little could reach her. In some ways that ability to separate herself had helped in the BAU. She'd become close to Garcia first, largely because the woman was so eccentric and so different that she couldn't help but feel something of a connection to the analyst. Then there'd been Reid with his adorable mix of shy awkwardness and brilliance, and Elle with her tough shell and sharp sense of humor. It had taken longer to get close to Morgan, but it had happened eventually. Then there was Emily.

"I  _am_  a cliche, Emily," she replied quietly, looking up into the brown-black eyes that were watching her with a much softer expression than they had been before she'd started telling the story, which made her feel even more guilty, "I let what happened affect the rest of my life. It's still affecting me ten years later, and now it's affecting you. I know exactly how my parents would react to you, Emily, because I've seen it before, both in my own life and in our work. And I know how they'll react to me too. It scares me. I thought I was over it, but I'm just like all those other-"

"You aren't just anything, Jennifer."

She was startled by how sharp her friend's voice was, and it must have showed on her face because Emily smiled wryly, though her expression was still unquestionably angry.

"Em-"

"No," the brunette interrupted firmly, shaking her head, her eyes flashing, "I'm still not sure where I am with the Will thing, but the fact is, you and I have never set rules, never talked about what we're doing, or if we were going to be exclusive. It's not a good situation, Jennifer, but we can still make this work. You just need to talk to me, tell me these things. Just so you know, though, if I ever meet your parents, I might not be able to be responsible for my actions. Or that girl."

The blonde stared up at her, more than a little confused now. Emily's fingertips brushed her face, as if she knew exactly where her father had hit her ten years ago. Her gaze was focused and intense, the compassion that was so integral to who she was cutting clear through the anger, reminding JJ all over again why she loved this woman so much.

"No one has the right to hurt another person," the brunette murmured almost reflectively, breaking into her thoughts, "but hurting  _you_  is something I take particular offense to."

"Emily..."

The dark agent shook her head, and Jennifer could feel her companion's body, which had become tense and drawn as she told he story, start to relax. It had never occurred to her that telling Emily about what had happened would have anything close to this result. She hadn't thought it was all that important, but apparently her friend did. A horrible thought occurred to her, and she shook her head slowly, denying the implication.

"Emily, I didn't tell you that story so you would forgive me. It's not an excuse or-"

"It's an explanation," Emily corrected calmly, slowly starting to smile again, giving her one of those looks that told her she was being dense, "not an excuse. I told you, I'm still not sure what to think, but at least now what happened isn't just..."

She trailed off, looking pained for a moment.

"It isn't just about me," she finished softly, her tone thoughtful and a little distant, "It's not just me you can't face. You've been running away for ten years, Jennifer. How can I expect you to stop now? How can I demand you put something that's been haunting you for a decade aside just like that? These things are a process, like everything we've been dealing with lately."

Jennifer sighed, the guilt and shame rising and nearly choking her. She didn't deserve Emily. A calloused hand pushed her chin up so she could meet warm, dark eyes again, and in them she could see a reflection of her own fear and doubt.

"I never thought I deserved you," the profiler mused, once again giving the younger woman the impression she could read minds, "and maybe that's the biggest problem. It's too easy for me to believe you would find someone better for you than I am, and it's too easy for you to believe you're just going to be hurt or betrayed again. We're both so scared we don't know what to do with ourselves, or each other. We forget to talk about it, and we get stuck in this cycle of doubt. We spend so much time thinking about what could go wrong, we make our own self-fulfilling prophecies."

JJ took a moment to consider that, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what Garcia and Keira had both tried to tell her. She chuckled grimly, really meeting her friend's gaze for one of the few times since they'd gotten home.

"We've been making all the steps, Emily," she observed, starting to laugh, though the sound was more raw and painful than she had intended, "It's no wonder everyone thought we were together. We've been acting more like an old married couple than friends for a long time, especially since that bastard got you. Then we move in together, and at this point the only thing we haven't done is..."

"Sex."

If she had been drinking or eating something she would have choked on it. As it was, Jennifer sputtered, blinking rapidly. Emily laughed at her reaction, shifting on the couch so she was leaning over the younger woman, her breath brushing the blonde's face. JJ became very still, intending to keep her eyes on Emily's, but it didn't work. They kept roving down, stopping at Emily's lips and staying there until she realized she was staring.

"What are you so afraid of?" Emily's voice whispered, the agonized words barely reaching her ears, "If you could sleep with Will when you didn't even want him, why can't you kiss me? Didn't we cross that line today? Why are you so afraid to touch or even look at me now?"

"Because I can't lose you," she whispered back without meaning to, not giving the words any conscious thought, "I can't look at you without wondering what I'm going to do to make you leave. And now I've done something that probably should have you running to the hills."

"No, Jennifer," the brunette replied, both reassuring and tender with just a little anger under it, though she couldn't tell if it was anger at being doubted or anger at the situation, "I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you did with Will, whatever happened in the past, it's not going to chase me off. I love you, damn it. I know you've heard that before and it hasn't meant anything, but it means something from me. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean the kind of love that lasts, Jennifer. And how could I justify leaving you when you stayed with me through so much? You kept me alive after my worst nightmares. How can I leave you? Maybe it's selfish, but I need you."

The blonde blushed as Emily shifted against her, bringing them impossibly closer. She breathed slowly, trying to calm down but feeling every shift in the body pressed against her own. Their breathing fell into sync, and the heart she could feel beating through the layers between them was soon beating in time with her own. A stillness fell over the house, and JJ felt herself starting to relax. Emily's warm weight was relaxing and arousing her all at once, and she wasn't sure if she would fall asleep or ravish the older woman if they stayed like this.

"I love you so much, Emily," she found herself whispering, and she pressed herself up, kissing the profiler gently. Her hands slipped down and under the hem of the older woman's shirt, stroking the soft skin she found there. Here and there her fingertips felt scars, reminders of the hell this woman had gone through, and something inside her seemed to tear lose. What Samis had done to Emily could happen again. In their line of work, it was entirely too possible. And this woman was beautiful, strikingly so. She had caught the eye of more than one unsub. Jennifer would be damned if Emily had to go into a hell like that not knowing what it was she was living for.

"All the motions," she murmured, shaking her head, "but not the last step. But Em, my parents aren't here to walk in on us, and even if they did, you would stay."

The profiler looked like she might object, her expression unsure, but JJ shook her head, smiling wryly.

"It's not all magically better, sweetheart," she remarked quietly, knowing that would be a core part of any objection her almost-lover might make, "And maybe I'll freak out later. Maybe I won't be able to handle it. But Emily, I can't face the idea that we'll never do this, and if I can't... I don't have any right to be with you. If nothing else, I need you to know that this, that  _us_ , is more important to me than the fear."

Emily blushed, then paled, her uncertainty clearly visible now.

"Jennifer, you should know... I've never been with a woman," the brunette admitted shamefully, "I mean... I've read... I've done research, but..."

JJ interrupted the stumbling admission with a kiss, finding herself taking comfort in the knowledge that she wasn't the only one who was both unsure and inexperienced.

"Well, it's been a decade for me," she observed with an ironic chuckle, terrified but amused to find herself the expert here, "but I think I remember a few things."

Her own fear wasn't completely gone, however, and she knew Emily's nerves were getting to her. She leaned up, briefly kissing the other agent again before falling back to rest her head on the arm of the couch. Emily followed her down, seeming almost unaware of having done so until they were kissing again, and then neither was thinking about much of anything.

"You know, I think we're pretty good at the kissing thing," Jennifer gasped when they separated again, leaving both women out of breath, "Maybe we could just start there."

Emily chuckled lowly, brown-black eyes glinting as she leaned in again, nipping at the blonde's lips.

"Sounds good to me."

****************

**Date and Time: October 27, 2007, 14:32**

**Location: Montgomery Mall, Bethesda, Maryland**

"What about that one?" JJ asked, pulling a deep blue top off the rack and holding it up against her bemused friend. Emily gave her a long look before taking the shirt, glancing at the nearby mirror.

"I think it would look better on you," she replied, pushing the garment back into her companion's hand. JJ frowned at her, but then caught the odd look in the brunette's eyes as she held the top against her own body. Just for a second Emily had looked at her almost as if...

"Go try it on," the dark woman urged quietly, breaking her out of her thoughts, "It's closer to your size anyway."

Jennifer had to admit that was the case, but as she slipped into the dressing room to try the silk shirt on she was thinking far more about the look in the brown-black eyes than the fit of the garment she was trying on. When she came back out Emily was waiting, and once again something she couldn't name flashed through her eyes before a warm, appreciative smile took the expression away, leaving behind one she was much more familiar with.

"That looks great on you, JJ!" she exclaimed, walking around the blonde to get a better look. The liaison looked in the mirror and was forced to agree that the blue made her eyes and pale hair stand out nicely. She was surprised by how well the fabric fit across her shoulders, as the shirt had been on a rack more suited to her friend's longer frame.

"It does look pretty nice," she agreed finally, "but it's not like I would wear it at the BAU."

"Wear it on a date," Emily suggested pragmatically. She cast another long look in the brunette's direction before giving in, going back to the dressing room to change into her own comfortable white polo shirt. Emily took possession of the shirt, putting it gently on top of the other clothes in the cart. Jennifer glanced at their finds so far, amused when she noticed the older agent had largely chosen yet more black for her wardrobe. On someone else it would be drab, but Emily wore black well, and there was enough variety to keep it from getting boring. Not that there was really anything boring about the profiler. Before she could find anything to say her phone rang, and she gave the brunette an apologetic smile before answering it.

"Agent Jareau."

She felt her expression crumble at the sound of her father's voice on the other end, immediately drawing her friend's attention. She gave Emily what she hoped was a reassuring smile before turning her attention back to the phone call. He wanted to know if she was coming down for Halloween, and a part of her cringed. Halloween in her family was a mix of of good and bad memories, more bad than good. A part of her wanted to believe that her father wanted to rectify that, but she doubted it. More likely he wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. It wasn't that he didn't love her, she knew, but he didn't like the choices she had made back when she was a teenager and didn't trust her not to repeat those mistakes.

"I'm sorry, dad," she replied quietly once he'd finished his pitch, "Halloween is a busy time for the team. I have to be here."

She sighed inwardly as he began to argue that they could surely spare her, and why couldn't they spare her for just a few nights. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the oncoming headache. She loved her family and wanted to spend more time with them, but she couldn't take the way they stared at her like a stranger if she talked about anything she cared about, like the team or DC. Caught up as she was in her thoughts and her father's speech, JJ was startled to feel a hand gently brush her back, and she turned to find almost-black eyes peering at her with painful understanding. Something in that gaze reminded her why they were out shopping to begin with, though she knew that hadn't been Emily's intention, and she resolutely turned her attention back to the present.

"I can't talk now, Dad. I'll call you and mom later."

With that she hung up, ignoring his protests and leading Emily to the checkout counter where she paid for both their clothes, not letting the stubborn brunette argue with her, and lead the way to a relatively quiet bench off to one side.

"I was going to let you take your time and tell me what's wrong when you were ready," she murmured softly, "but whatever it is has been bothering you for days. Talk to me."

"What was the call about? Your father wanted you to go visit them?" the profiler asked, not meeting her gaze. That had been a theme lately. Emily wouldn't quite look at anyone. She was edgy and quiet, and her eyes had been haunted constantly since the Katie Jacobs case. All of them had been affected by that night, but Emily seemed to have taken it the hardest. JJ wanted to know why.

"Emily," she warned gently, "Don't change the subject. What's going on with you?"

The brunette tried to deflect her for several more minutes, but Jennifer persisted, knowing from experience she could get the hard-headed profiler to give in with patience, gentle prodding, and the occasional verbal smack upside the head. Finally Emily sighed, giving her a look that was somewhere between a glare and an affectionate smile.

"Fine, fine. It's not really that big a deal though."

"It's big enough that you haven't been sleeping or eating enough. Garcia noticed, and you can bet the others have or will. So spill, Prentiss. Wouldn't you rather deal with it with me than, say... Hotch?"

The profiler's eyes glazed over, and JJ smiled to herself. She would bet good money Emily was picturing that conversation.

"Uh... Yeah."

Jennifer chuckled, but she could tell her friend was still uncomfortable. Emily was private by nature as well as by training, and she wouldn't talk in the middle of a crowded mall. Fortunately the liaison had planned for this, and they'd been shopping just across the way from a quiet little restaurant that had always served as an ideal place to talk after a long day of mall crawling. They were seated immediately, and Emily started speaking almost as soon as the waitress, who was familiar with the habits of the two FBI agents, had made herself scarce.

"You're going to think this is so stupid," Em muttered in that self-deprecating tone that always made JJ want to beat Ambassador Prentiss to a pulp for teaching the dark profiler, "but I can't stop thinking about Susan Jacobs."

"What about her, Em?" the liaison asked softly, slipping her fingers into Emily's, trusting the touch to assure her companion that she didn't think any of this was stupid.

"She was so ready to just let Katie die, rather than face what her husband was. She let her son suffer the guilt and her in-laws go through hell, all because she didn't want to face reality. What kind of person can lock a little girl in a locker and sit with her screaming, crying, hysterical parents and _comfort_  them?"

The blonde nodded, remembering her own comment to Garcia about Susan comforting Katie's mother. She understood why that would have left Em so haunted. It'd certainly stayed with her, and she hadn't been the one to confront the woman with her crimes and the results of her actions. She hadn't been the one to show Susan that little girl's desecrated doll, and she hadn't been the one who had cuffed her, walked her to the police car, and spoken to Susan's teenage son as his mother was taken away. She said as much, pausing when the waitress returned with an apologetic expression and their food. Once the young redhead was gone, the blonde turned her full attention back to her teammate, deliberately spearing a piece of tender chicken and penne and guiding it into Emily's mouth.

"I can feed myself, JJ," the brunette chided, but her haunted eyes had lightened and her muscles had relaxed somewhat. The liaison smiled as she took the food, chewing it slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time.

"Kari has to live with what happened to her family," Emily murmured, apparently randomly, after she'd swallowed, but JJ was unsurprised by the change in subject.

"She has to live with the memory of watching Gary murder her parents and finding her brother dead in his room. She has to live with the fear of never being the daughter she should have been. And Katie Jacobs has to live with what her uncle and aunt did to her. One has no parents left, and the other may never be able to trust hers. What kind of people are they going to be as adults? And what kind of person leaves a kid to face that? We may solve the cases and find the killers, and we may even bring the families some kind of closure, but we don't have to stick around and help them heal. We rarely see these people once we're done with the case. We're trained not to think about them, JJ. We're trained to move on to the next case and forget about the people left behind. I was never good at that part. I always remember them. I can't forget."

The liaison nodded, watching her friend fiddle with her glass with her free hand, the one holding her own tightening its grip.

"They can't train the heart out of you, Em," she observed quietly, "and I'm glad they can't. You can compartmentalize all you want, Emily, but I've never known you to stop caring. Hotch once told me that empathy can make or break us, but it's better to have it than not. It's not perfect, Emily. Nothing is. He was right about that. We get through it by caring enough to go on and face the next victim, the next case, and the next crime scene. We'll never get them all, but we do it so the kids like Kari and Katie can at least have a chance. And if you didn't remember them and wonder how they're doing, if you didn't hope for the best for them, you wouldn't be you, Emily Prentiss. You wouldn't be this incredibly kind, compassionate woman, and you wouldn't belong on this team. We all care too much, Emily. It's what makes us the best."

Very slowly a smile started to spread across Emily's face, and JJ felt an answering one forming on her own. Playfully spearing another bite of chicken and penne, she waved it in front of the older agents face, waiting for her to bite down. After a moment she did, quirking an eyebrow at her blonde friend. The liaison just laughed, digging into her own meal. There was comfortable quiet between them for a while, then the profiler gently tugged on the hand she still held, getting her attention.

"What'd your father want?"

The blonde felt the blood drain out of her face at the mention of the earlier phone call, but she shook it off, refusing to ruin their day out. Emily needed to unwind, and if she were honest, so did she. She'd much rather they do it together. She'd missed being with Emily like this. Garcia was a great friend, her best friend, but there was a vast difference between being out with her and being out with the beautiful Agent Prentiss. Garcia was fun-loving, unpredictable, and a little crazy. Emily was generally confident and self-assured, with an underlying sense of mischief and fun that made being around her almost as much of an adventure as being with Garcia. The difference was that with Garcia, there was always the question of whether or not the tech goddess would be able to get them out of whatever trouble she got them into. There was never any doubt with Emily. If the dark agent  _were_  to get them in trouble, or if something went wrong while they were together, JJ knew she could count on Emily to have her back. She loved Penelope Garcia dearly, but in a crisis involving anything except computers, she would rather have Emily Prentiss there with her steady gaze, sharp mind, and calm hands.

"They want me to come home and celebrate Halloween with them," she replied, deciding just as she spoke to tell her companion the truth, "and I'm not going to. I don't want to be with them, Em. They don't understand me or what I do, and they don't want to. They just want me to be..."

"Someone else," Emily finished for her, nodding thoughtfully. She eyed the blonde, taking another slow bite of her lunch before putting her fork down.

"Who do you want to spend Halloween with, JJ?" she asked softly, "Who do you want to spend the holidays with? You won't spend them with your family back home, and you don't seem to have anyone but the team. I know the team is family, but..."

"It's enough for me, Emily," JJ assured her, smiling gently and squeezing her hand. When the brunette looked like she might object, she gripped the limb tightly with both hands, refusing to let Emily look away.

"It's enough," she repeated softly, her meaning clear to them both. Emily smiled back, brown-black eyes soft and a little shy. They both turned their attention back to their food, busying themselves with the simple process of chewing. The waitress, passing by to check on them, couldn't keep from grinning. These two were too cute for words.


	11. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*Thanks go to Cabrini Green for a certain description of Will that appears in this chapter, which I couldn't resist making a place for in the story. Cheers!)
> 
> Also, I do not speak French, German, or Italian. I wish I did, but despite my best efforts only a few languages have managed to stick in my thick head, and then only in fragments. I am aware of this shortcoming, but it is my sense that Emily's talent with languages is a part of who she is and mustn't be ignored. Anyone who sees an error in my usage is welcome to correct me, and if possible inform me of a more reliable translator than the one I'm using.

_**Catalyst**_ : An agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action,

or precipitates an event that may not have happened otherwise.

**Date and Time: March 24, 2008, 08:56**

**Location: Quantico, Virginia Jennifer Jareau's Office**

"Spill."

JJ looked up, not particularly surprised to find Penelope Garcia standing in the door of her office. She had been at work for all of an hour, and already the oracle had taken to dogging her steps almost constantly. She smiled affectionately, then lost her focus as she caught a glimpse of Emily through the open door. The older agent had just passed by to get some coffee, but Jennifer couldn't turn away from the spot, waiting to see the brunette walk back to her desk. Garcia's fingers snapping in front of her face brought her back to the present, and she turned to her friend, trying to ignore the smug, knowing look on her face. Any interest she had in her large friend was lost again when a flash of red caught her attention. She glanced up, finding brown-black eyes watching her. She froze, drowning in the intense gaze. Suddenly the profiler smiled, one of the full blown, goofy grins that always made the liaison smile in return, which she felt herself doing now despite her best efforts. Emily glanced at Garcia and tilted her head curiously, and JJ shrugged in return. Emily chuckled, saluting her with her coffee mug before moving on. Blue eyes stayed fixed on her for the few moments she remained in view, and their owner sighed when the dark form was gone.

"Jayj!"

"Huh?" she replied eloquently, struggling to focus on Garcia yet again. The larger "blonde" was staring at her, a particularly strange expression on her mobile face.

"Was there something you needed, Garcia?"

The analyst continued to stare at her, and JJ was starting to wonder if she was all right. Somehow Emily was there behind Garcia, edging past her into the office, handing a file over to the blonde, eyeing their friend uncertainly.

"Did you break her?" she asked, something between laughter and genuine concern in her voice.

"I think so," Jennifer agreed, glancing over at the file Emily had handed her before looking back up, intending to ask Garcia what was wrong, but the dark eyes on her acted like magnets, and she couldn't help but fall into them. Her mind had no trouble providing an image of what those eyes looked like in different light and different circumstances, and what she saw made her shiver. The brunette leaned against her desk, pointing out something in the file that needed her attention, and she dutifully looked at the line in question, trying not to tremble at the brush of Emily's hand against her shoulder. She was not unaware of the wrongness in being turned on by her fellow agent while reading about about a brutal series of murders. She just couldn't seem to do anything about it.

"Garcia, are you all right?" the dark profiler asked as Jennifer reviewed the report Emily had given her, and the blonde was almost embarrassed by the intensity of her relief when Penelope finally stopped staring at her and turned to the brunette.

"What the hell happened this weekend?" the analyst asked, and Emily smiled, reaching into the pocket of her gunmetal gray pants and handing over a small pen camera.

"Hotch and Rossi were great with the dogs," she remarked with a ready smile, her hand coming to rest where it had caressed just a moment before, "There are some great shots on there. I got a bunch of Rossi actually  _smiling_ , and Hotch too. Did Jennifer tell you we're going to get the guys to build a dog house and move them down here with us?"

Inexplicably JJ felt herself blushing when Garcia turned to her, eyes questioning.

"What happened this weekend?" she repeated, shaking her head, "You two are acting weird. Good weird, definitely good, but... Weird."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Garcia," Emily replied with her easy smile, squeezing Jennifer's shoulder as she rose, turning back at the door to toss another warm smile at the blonde.

"Get back to me on that when you get a chance?"

JJ nodded, and Emily left. Suddenly the office felt a little dimmer, a little grayer, and she found herself missing her friend immediately. With an internal sigh she resigned herself to the Garcia Inquisition, but even that couldn't quite take the lingering burn of Emily's touch away. As the oracle of all things knowable and unknowable fixed a questioning stare on her again, she couldn't help but break out laughing. Garcia was starting to look at her like she was worried she had lost her mind, and Jennifer had to concede that she just might have.

"Did you need anything, Garcia?" she asked again, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"I need you to give me details!" the analyst exclaimed, "I'm dying here! What the heck happened between you two?!"

Jennifer laughed again as she waved her friend into a chair, trying to find words to describe the last two days. Nothing seemed to be quite enough though, so she did the next best thing. She pulled the collar of her shirt to one side, revealing a distinctive mark against her tanned skin.

"Is that... A hickey, Miss Jareau?!" Garcia demanded, and JJ shrugged helplessly, feeling her silly grin widening. She closed her eyes as the memories surfaced, her breathing becoming a little rough.

 _Emily had come up behind her in the hallway, surprising her with a with a light kiss as she passed. Unable to help herself, Jennifer had grabbed the older woman's arm, pulling the taller body against her own, deepening the kiss. Emily had been the first to pull away, only to kiss her way across her jaw and down her neck, all the while murmuring what had sounded like a prayer. JJ had tried to pick out the words between her own ragged gasps, but they weren't in English or any other language she knew. She made a mental note to ask later, then found better things to think about_.

"Looks and sounds like you had a good time, Jayj," the analyst remarked approvingly. When JJ managed to open her eyes and return to the present, she found her friend smirking broadly at her, giving her one of the patented "Garcia the Oracle" looks.

"You have  _no_  idea," she replied, trying and failing not to sound as aroused as she was, or as disoriented, "That woman is going to be the end of me."

"You two..." Penelope started to ask, but the blonde shook her head, anticipating the question.

"We didn't have sex, Garcia," she replied, rolling her eyes, long since resigned to her friend's gutter brain.

"Well you did something to put that look on your face and that hickey on your shoulder," Garcia retorted, refusing to let up. The liaison smiled and nodded absently, vividly remembering exactly how that mark had appeared. She shifted, slightly uncomfortable with the tech goddess's scrutiny, then found herself thinking of another moment she had no intention of sharing, at least not yet.

_They had finally managed to get lunch made and consumed, but JJ hadn't tasted a bite of her food. Giving in to the physical aspect of her relationship with Emily seemed to have sensitized her to every look and touch from the dark woman. She sighed, trying to ignore the way her body responded to her friend's presence as the brunette leaned over to pick up their plates and bring them to the sink. Just as she was about to praise herself for keeping her hands to herself for at least a few minutes longer, Emily whispered something in what might have been Italian in her ear. She didn't understand the words, but she didn't really need to. The tone of her partner's voice said it all. She turned, unable to stop herself from seeking out the brown-black eyes, looking for something she already knew would be there. As expected, those eyes were smoky and heated when they met her own, and a helpless sound, almost a whimper, escaped her as Emily continued to speak, at least until Jennifer cut her off with a forceful kiss._

"I have to remember to ask her how many languages she speaks," the blonde muttered, forgetting for a moment that her perky friend was still in the room. Garcia cleared her throat, an unsubtle reminder of her presence, and JJ felt herself blushing again. Shaking her head, she put down the file her partner had given her, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was feeling more and more like she was going insane. She couldn't even  _think_  about the beautiful brunette without wanting to touch her. They hadn't slept together the last two nights because neither woman trusted her own ability to keep her hands to herself. Before it had been difficult, but there had been a wall, or maybe a chasm would be a more accurate description, between them preventing any sort of "inappropriate" physical contact. In other words, they had been too damn shy and scared to make the first move. Now that move had been taken, however, and all bets were off. Terrified as she still was, and guilty, Jennifer knew it would be unfair to go back to that distance now, and she'd be lying if she said she wanted to. Not really, anyway. The scared part of her wanted to, wanted things to be safe and easy again, but that wasn't going to happen. Her body wouldn't allow her to forget the way it felt to touch and be touched by Emily, nor would it let go of the powerful reaction to that same woman speaking to her in foreign languages. She had never known herself to have a language fetish, but at least with her profiler companion she did, and an embarrassingly intense one at that.

"JJ!"

Fingers snapped in front of her face, and the liaison realized she'd spaced out yet again. Just the thought of Emily and exotic tongues-

"Sorry, what?" she asked, desperately grasping onto the present and holding tightly. Penelope cocked her head, starting to appear more seriously concerned than anything else.

"Are you all right, Jayj? You're all over the place today."

The blonde nodded, running her hands through her hair in frustration and confusion.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Garcia," JJ admitted softly, not able to look her old friend in the eye any more as she gave voice to the thoughts that were causing her internal chaos, "I can't stop thinking about her. All I want to do, all the time, is touch her. Not just sexually, either. I know we've had some... I guess it'd be called separation anxiety, since Samis took her, but the last couple days it's like I can't stand to have her more than a few feet away."

"What changed between you two, JJ?" the analyst asked again, this time more compassionately. It had become obvious to the tech that her blonde friend's world had been turned upside down, though clearly for pleasant reasons this time, but even so she knew JJ didn't always respond well to sudden changes in her life. Considering the work they did, they all took some comfort in routine and constants, but JJ was more that way than some.

"I kissed her," the liaison whispered, and smiled wanly at what Garcia knew was a rather surprised look on her face, adding quietly, "Yeah, I thought she'd be the first one to crack too. But it was me. I kissed her when we were in Montana, in Keira Datton's bedroom."

Penelope considered that for a moment. She hadn't ever met the writer in person, but the different stories she'd heard from her teammates, and her brief discussion with the young woman on the phone, had led her to believe Keira had been a very wounded human being with a good, if broken, heart and active mind. Her book,  _Fracture_ , had furthered that opinion. If what she'd found out was true, and she knew it was, Keira had suffered greatly from the loss of both women she'd loved, Jenna to insanity and the other to Jenna. There was a certain poetic justice in JJ coming to terms with her attraction to Emily in Datton's house, but it still struck her as a little macabre. She wasn't about to say that, though, especially since her friend wasn't done.

"After we got home from Montana we talked about what was getting in the way, then more kissing happened and..."

JJ trailed off, then finally looked back up. The tech goddess was stunned by the turmoil in the liaison's blue eyes, and the raw need she saw there.

"We agreed it'd be better not to share a bed until things were more settled," JJ went on, sounding more strained with every word, "but the only reason I've been able to sleep at night is because of the medication my shrink gave me for insomnia and nightmares. I don't know what to do without her there, Garcia, but I sure as hell don't know what to do  _with_  her."

Again the hacker considered, and this time she smiled affectionately, wondering, though not for the first time, how they had possibly been friends so long and this had never come up.

"Honey, I think you know exactly what to do with her."

The blonde blushed darkly, but at least some of the stricken look faded from her eyes.

"I know what I  _want_  to do," JJ retorted, adding in a low voice, "God knows I've thought about it enough."

She shook her head, sighing softly before giving the tech a frank look.

"Garcia, I've never been with someone like her. She could have anyone. Just look at her... She has it all. She's gorgeous, she's rich, she's brilliant..."

The liaison trailed off, then added, "And she has this really distracting ability to speak way too many languages."

Before Garcia could ask more about that, JJ shook her head again, apparently struggling to refocus on her original point.

"And I'm just the pretty blonde soccer player from East Allegheny," she finished, her shoulders hunching beneath the green fabric of her short-sleeved silk top, "Emily Prentiss should be totally out of my league. So how is it that I'm the one she wants to be with? What if the sex turns out to be awful? Not that Emily would be awful at it. She doesn't fail at anything, even something like this that's totally new to her. She doesn't know how. I might be, though. And what if I am? She's so-"

"So in love with you, JJ," the hacker interrupted, not liking the direction her companion's thoughts had taken or the slightly hysterical tone of voice, "That woman wouldn't notice if Angelina came sauntering in naked and danced on her desk. She'd be too busy looking at you."

"Emily would notice," the other woman corrected after taking a moment to absorb that image, "She's a profiler. Noticing things is what she does."

Garcia let out an exasperated sigh, mock-glaring at her best friend.

"Yeah, that's right," she agreed after a moment, a slow, gentle smile spreading across her face, "but as long as she's been here, the only person Emily has noticed is  _you_. She may know everyone's name and life story, and she might know who's doing who in the janitor's closest, but you're the only one she's really looked at. It doesn't matter to her who else she could have.  _You_  are the only one she wants. Haven't you noticed that by now? The woman would turn down  _Derek Morgan_  if he asked her out. That should tell you something."

JJ laughed, but Penelope didn't miss the shadows that darkened the blue eyes at the mention of the handsome agent. It hurt to see, but she didn't comment on it. Derek would have to mend things with JJ himself. She couldn't help him here. The liaison couldn't forget that the dark man was partially responsible for what had happened to Emily, and Garcia knew better than to hope that would go away particularly soon.

"What should I do, Garcia?" her friend asked suddenly, and the tech goddess had to think for a moment to remember just what they were talking about. When she did she grinned, patting the other agent's hand.

"Well, first you tell her. Then you get on the internet and do some reading. After that, well... It's kind of up to you, Jayj," she replied with a smile, then leaned in as she added quietly, "And you might want to think about the fact that she's gorgeous, she wants you, and I've heard that people who are really good with languages have really talented tongues."

She laughed as JJ went from bright red to pale and back, sliding out of her chair and leaving the office, closing the door behind her to give her frustrated and distressed friend some semblance of privacy. As she walked back out into the bullpen Emily waved her over, which worked out since Garcia had something to say to the older woman anyway.

"I forgot to give you this," the brunette remarked as she approached, holding out a book, "When we were at Keira's cabin we got the books she wanted to give to you and Reid. I already gave him his."

Garcia took the novel with visible glee.  _Fracture_  had been heart-wrenching and exciting all at once, keeping her up late at nights to finish it, and she couldn't wait to sit down with this new book. Emily had refused to let her borrow the manuscript Keira had left her, so she'd been forced to wait. The new book,  _Madness_ , was thick enough to satisfy her that the story had not been dismissed by its creator. For a moment she forgot what she'd wanted to tell Emily, then it came back to her, and she grinned at the profiler, as well as the other BAU agents.

"I think we should all go out to the club Friday night," she declared, going on before they could interrupt, "And I'm not taking "no" for an answer. And Em, come see me later. You and I need to have a little talk."

Emily made sure to look suitably terrified, which wasn't much of a stretch. She loved Garcia dearly, but the woman was more unpredictable than anyone she had ever met, and some of her ideas and "talks" were more than a little disturbing. Shrugging to herself, she decided the best thing she could do was get her work done and face whatever the analyst wanted to talk about as soon as possible. Profiler she was, but she had only rarely found herself able to predict what Penelope Garcia would do or say.

"Finally, an excuse to go out," Morgan commented out loud with a grin, and she glanced over, finding, as she had expected, Reid looking strangely at the older agent.

"You need an excuse?" he asked, right on cue. Emily chuckled, turning back to the file she held. She made several additions to the report before closing it and reaching for the next one, consciously closing her mind against the first shock that always occurred whens she looked at the pictures and read the words describing, in brutal detail, what had happened before and after those pictures had been taken. She was almost halfway through the report when the horror of what she was reading penetrated her mental barriers, and she froze, staring blankly at the photograph in front of her. It was from the case before her kidnapping, the one in Philadelphia with the storage locker and the glory-seeking FBI agent. What had caught her up was a description of the burns inflicted on the corpses of the women  _she_  had seen dug up out of the earth. She had seen the electrical burns first hand. She had known they would be there. She just hadn't known what they felt like yet. The profiler closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly and deeply to combat her building nausea.

"Prentiss?" a voice asked her from behind, and she jerked violently, one hand actually going for her gun in the first few seconds of startled reaction. Rossi held out his hands, and she blinked a few times to assure herself it was really the Italian agent and not someone else.

"Emily?" Reid asked, looking over at them curiously. The brunette tried to calm herself and block the memories, but after a moment she gave up, brushing past Rossi and heading down the hall. She wanted to turn and go to JJ's office, knowing the beautiful blonde's presence could make the memories stop, or at least fade, but her body had other plans. She barely made it to a toilet in the thankfully empty restroom before she was on her knees, vomiting what had been a particularly tasty breakfast. A new sound, that of a door closing and a lock sliding into place, made her start to turn, going for her gun again, but a warm hand covered hers while another gently pulled her hair back. Every muscle in her body relaxed all at once, and she gasped, falling limply against the body that had appeared behind her.

"Jennifer."

"I've got you," the other agent assured her, scooting further into the stall so Emily could reach the toilet if she needed it again. The profiler sighed as elegant fingers worked their way into her hair, pulling it back and tying it in a ponytail. As best she could tell she had managed not to get any vomit in the dark mass, but she wasn't going to count on having that kind of luck more than once. Moments later she was leaning over the bowl again, and again Jennifer's hands were there, bracing her until she fell back, then guiding her into an embrace, where she sat shivering.

"Easy, Em," her partner's voice whispered soothingly, "just breathe."

She did as ordered, then tasted her breath and winced.

"Got any breath mints?" she asked hoarsely, and JJ chuckled, handing her one from a tin. The strong taste made her feel a little more human, and she eyed her companion, only then able to wonder what the blonde was doing on the floor of the bathroom with her.

"I saw you pass my office," Jennifer explained in response to the silent question, "And you looked upset. I kind of thought if you weren't coming to see me you were probably on your way here. Since I know you're not hungover and I'm reasonably sure you aren't still sick, I had a good idea what might have happened."

She nodded slowly, allowing herself the luxury of resting her head against the younger woman's shoulder as she caught her breath.

"I was checking over the report on the case in Philadelphia," she offered, well aware that the reason for her breakdown would be important to her partner, "And I came to a description about the electrical burns. It... took me off guard."

She felt JJ stiffen, then slowly relax, and she looked up curiously, seeing understanding in the clear eyes. Seemingly without thought a calloused hand touched a spot on her left thigh where they both knew there was a lingering scar from an electrical burn, the partial cause of the damage to her leg. Emily sighed, burying her face in her partner's shirt.

"Sometimes I catch myself crying for no apparent reason," the blonde murmured suddenly, "or getting sick from reading a file. My shrink says it's a healthy response that means my mind is aware of the cause of my trauma and is trying to deal with it. You know what I told him?"

Emily waited, and Jennifer sighed shakily into her hair.

"I told him," the liaison went on, tears in her voice, "that there was nothing healthy about watching the most precious thing in my life be tortured and nearly killed by a sadistic bastard. There's nothing healthy in that at all."

The words touched the profiler more than she had thought they would, and she found herself whimpering softly as she buried her face in her companion's chest again. JJ just held on tightly and let her cry. If Emily wasn't mistaken, the younger woman was crying right along with her. Finally the tension eased and she could think again, finding herself embarrassed by her breakdown. Jennifer, as always, seemed to pick up on that and smiled affectionately, shaking her head.

"Stubborn woman," she muttered. There was a moment of silence between them, then JJ bent her head to kiss her. Emily almost jumped, startled by such an open display, especially at work, but before the reaction had entirely processed her hands were moving on their own, one to tangle itself in Jennifer's hair and the other wrapping around her back, pulling her closer.

"I love you so much," the blonde whispered against her lips, kissing her again more firmly before leaning back, blue eyes a little glazed. Emily wanted to follow her, but she was acutely aware both of the barely masked taste of vomit in her mouth and where they were. Instead, she forced herself to breathe slowly, getting her breath back before meeting the younger woman's gaze again.

" _Ich liebe dich auch. Mehr als Wörter können beschreiben,_ " she replied, smiling to herself at the faint tremor that made its way through her companion's body where they were still touching. She had been told by her male friends in college that German was not a language that got the girls going, but she hadn't found that to be the case with the one woman she had tried it out on. Then again, she had the sense that JJ was getting as much of a thrill out of the tone as she was the language itself. The words,  _"I love you too. More than words can describe_ ", would have been powerful enough in English, but she had noticed her beloved had a certain... weakness... for her skills in language.

"You and I need to talk about that particular talent of yours at some point," the liaison almost gasped, freeing a hand to pull at blonde hair in visible frustration. The brunette grinned at the gesture, willing herself to let go of the shock and the fear, at least for a while longer. She could deal with it at home, but not now and not here.

"I need to wash my mouth out," she decided aloud, intentionally breaking the tension between herself and her partner, "Then we need to go back to work. Eventually someone is going to need to use the restroom."

The remark made the other woman stiffen, and for a second Emily saw a flash of fear in her eyes. A moment later it was replaced by rage, and JJ stiffened, her grip tightening to the point that it was almost painful.

"I hate that you care," Jennifer nearly growled, "and I hate that I care even more. I hate that we have to care. Damn it, Emily... I'm in love with you. I finally figure that out and face up to it, but we still have to hide."

The profiler didn't know what to say to that. It was true. They were both cautious and private by nature, and here at work they were doubly so. What choice did they have? In her mind, this thing they had was still too new, too fragile to risk exposure at work. It could shatter everything, and she didn't know if she could deal with that. JJ shook her head with a sigh, loosening her hold.

"I'm sorry, Emily," she murmured, pressing a light, shy kiss to her hair, "Let's get you cleaned up, if you're sure you'll be okay. If not, let me talk to Hotch and I'll take you home."

The brunette waved away the idea, getting up gingerly and heading for the sinks.

"I'm all right," she assured her companion, her mind still focused largely on Jennifer's earlier outburst even as she thoroughly rinsed her mouth before speaking again, "It just caught me off guard. I know better now."

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, then one brushed her hair out of the way. A soft kiss brushed the back of her neck, and she shivered, her knees threatening to give way for a new reason.

"I love you, Emily," the blonde whispered, her voice more felt than heard, "If I ever do something to make you think otherwise, or if I'm a little too good at pretending I don't here at work, let me know. I've been hiding it so long I haven't learned to show you properly yet, even when we're at home."

"You're doing a pretty good job right now," Emily retorted, hearing the hoarseness in her own voice and blushed, embarrassed by how responsive her body was. Jennifer chuckled, and in the sound she heard an echo of her own emotions.

"Just something to get you through the day."

With that the blonde was gone, leaving the profiler to try to gather herself. She was beyond grateful that the Bureau couldn't put cameras up in the restrooms, making it one of the only places in Quantico free of surveillance. As it was, it took several more minutes before she felt able to face her job again, though that had a little less to do with the left-over trauma of her torture and more to do with what her partner had just done and said. When she sat down at her desk no one said anything, and she found herself thankful her team knew to let it be. She saw Rossi glance in her direction once, then nod slightly and move on, as if letting her know he knew everything had been handled. The rest of the work day passed in relative peace, since they didn't have any urgent cases, which was something of a minor miracle. If she didn't know better, she would have thought JJ had done it on purpose, but she would never do that. She cared too much. They all did.

"Emily!" Garcia called as she was considering packing up to go home. The tech's voice reminded her of their earlier conversation, and she was torn between cringing and laughing. She followed the larger woman into her office, where she was promptly sat down and fixed with an intense stare. She sighed mentally at the realization that this probably wasn't going to be a short, easy "girl talk". She was tired and the aftereffects of her breakdown earlier had started to make themselves known. She just wanted to go home and fall into bed.

"So. You and JJ finally-"

"We did not have sex, Garcia," she interrupted with no small amount of resignation. The tech goddess glared at her, shaking her head.

"Why does everyone assume that's the first thing I think of?"

"Umm..."

Emily cut herself off and just raised an eyebrow at her friend. Garcia sighed, flopping unhappily into her own seat, silently admitting defeat on that point.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask," she declared after a few moments of awkward silence, "I was going to ask about you, Em. I want to know how you're doing with all of this. You've been waiting on our girl forever and now you've got her. I'm just wondering how you are."

The brunette wondered how she could possibly answer that when she didn't know herself. She wanted more than anything to be happy, but in all honesty she was terrified. Every time she and Jennifer had made progress in their relationship, something had gotten in the way. Something had threatened to tear them apart. She knew she was strong willed, and stubborn to say the least, but she also knew she wasn't invincible, and neither was the woman she had only just earned the right to call her partner.

"You're waiting for the world to go upside down and take her away, aren't you?" the oracle asked softly in one of her moments of apparent clairvoyance. Emily scrubbed wearily at her face, wishing she wasn't so transparent while at the same time grateful she didn't have to find the words for her chaotic feelings.

"Honey, you have to have a little faith. If Jayj weren't madly in love with you I guarantee she wouldn't have gone this far."

The big agent paused thoughtfully, then muttered irritably, "If she wasn't in love with you she wouldn't have run to the crawfish and let him put his mini-lobster claws all over  _your_  woman **(*)**. I love JJ, but she has to be the most dense human being I've ever met when it comes to love."

Emily tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. The image of Will as a lobster was too funny, and she was still feeling a bit vindictive toward him. Her darker side put the Will-lobster in a pot of boiling water, and she dragged her attention back to Garcia, deciding it was better not to go down that road.

"She has her reasons," she managed instead, trying to shake off the intense possessiveness that welled up in her when she thought of LaMontagne putting his hands, or any other part of him, near Jennifer. Garcia clucked at her, obviously not falling for it.

"Honey, all the reasons in the world don't make it go away for you."

Emily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. When she realized she'd done it she smiled to herself. She'd picked up the gesture from Jennifer without meaning to. The look on Garcia's face started her laughing, even as she reflected on the reason she wasn't more upset about the Will "issue".

_Jennifer's hand wrapping around her arm pulled her attention from checking the slowly simmering meal in the crock pot, and she turned, smiling warmly. The smile faded when she got a good look at her partner's face, however, but before she could ask the blonde gently guided her to the couch and took a leather-bound journal off the table where she'd obviously left it._

" _Emily, I need you to listen to something for me, and I need you to promise me you'll wait to respond until I finish."_

_Confused and a little concerned, the profiler gave her word, watching as Jennifer breathed in deeply and opened the journal, visibly bracing herself. Just as Emily was going to say something, to tell her this wasn't necessary or something, anything to take the look of growing fear and depression from those dull blue eyes, the liaison started to read._

" _ **How can I go home and face Emily after what I did? How can I look her in the eye and tell her what happened? I don't even know what happened! One minute we were working on the case, the next I was naked in bed with Will. I don't even remember how we went from one to the other! We weren't drunk, he would never drug me, and if I had said no, he would have stopped. So there's no excuse. I had sex with Will, and now somehow I have to explain this to Emily.**_

_**What am I going to say? "Hey Em, I fucked a guy I had no interest in last night. How'd you sleep?"** _

_**Uh, no. That's not going to work. She's going to want to know why, and I don't know what to tell her. Or I do, but I don't know if I can actually say it, because the only reason I can think of will be something I can't explain away, and she'd have every right to slap me.** _

" _ **Emily, I slept with Will because it was the easiest, most convenient way to relieve all the sexual tension between us."**_

_**Yeah, that'll go over well. I'd slap me if I were her. I still might. Garcia was right. The woman's a saint. Why does she even put up with me?** _

_**That is the question, isn't it? Why is someone like Emily interested in me? Okay, JJ, stop being an idiot. You really want to know why she's** _ **in love** _**with you. God, I'm starting to sound like my cousin.** _

_**Emily Prentiss isn't the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, but she comes close. She's probably one of the strongest and smartest people I've ever known.** _

_**I love her eyes. There have been times I meant to tell her exactly that, but I never have. I'm still such a coward. I look in her eyes and I want to know everything they see. But I get so scared of what they see in me.** _

_**That's the problem. Some part of me is still that little girl from a small town with a family that doesn't have a clue what I think or feel. Emily... It's like she knows everything.** _

_**Why can't my family see whatever it is she sees? Why can't my parents look at me and see someone worth loving?** _

_**Why can't I look at Emily and tell her the truth? Am I just like them? Am I so used to hiding behind my badge and title that I can't just stop and be Jennifer for her?** _

_**What would she do if I did what I've been thinking about doing way too often these last few weeks? Bet that would put quite a spin on things.** _

_**How would Emily react if I kissed her on the mouth like I've been dreaming of for days? What if I told her I'd been wondering what her lip balm tasted like and if her lips were really as soft as they look?** _

_**What if I ripped off one of those perfectly fitting shirts she wears and just buried myself in her breasts? That would be different.** _

_**But I don't want to do all that. Or I do. I REALLY do... but I don't without her knowing that I don't just want her body, beautiful and tempting as she's been sure to let me know it is. I want that smile she gives me when I make her favorite breakfast, and the tears when we watch one of those incredibly sappy movies that she says break her heart. Who knew Emily Prentiss was such a romantic?** _

_**It's not just that, either. I want her to be the one holding me when I wake up or fall asleep. I want to be the one she goes to when she can't sleep, the voice that soothes her after a nightmare, and the person she can depend on when she needs that little bit of extra encouragement.** _

_**I want her to know me, everything about me. I want her to know that she's the first and last person I think about every day, and that if I could have taken her place in that damned bomb shelter, I would in a heartbeat.** _

_**Samis. Jonah Samis would have killed me. I wouldn't have been able to stay quiet. Sure, at first I could have. Or maybe I would have fought and cursed until I was so raw I couldn't scream. But he would have broken me. I don't think I'm weak. It's not that. It's just that it would have felt good to scream after all of that. Not so good to die, though.** _

_**I still remember what it felt like to hear her say my name when we found her in that damn bomb shelter. She was so hurt, and she still wanted me to get out of there. If our positions had been reversed and I had been the one taken, would it have taken her as long?** _

_**I digress, or do I? Did I really have a subject to go off of? Oh, right. Emily and sleeping with Will.** _

_**Sex with Will.** _

_**I betrayed Emily. It sounds so dramatic, but it's true. I betrayed her by going to New Orleans, by sleeping with him, and I'm still doing it. Thinking about what it would feel like to- no. I can't think about that. Not only is it never going to happen, especially now, but it's** _ **wrong** _**.** _

_**Why is it never going to happen? Because I'm a coward. I can smile nicely for the cameras and say all the right words, but inside I'm still that girl. And Emily is from a world that even now I don't have a frame of reference for. I don't fit in. And worse, I could never bring her back there with me. My family wouldn't understand, and they'd be horrible to her. She'd try to be kind, but they'd shut her out. They'd make her miserable, and me too. I'd never hear the end of it. Between sleeping with a daughter of "aristocracy" and a** _ **woman** _**, I'd never be forgiven. I'm not sure which would be worse in their eyes.** _

_**Why does it even matter? Why do I care what they think? I barely talk to them any more.** _

_**They'd approve of Will. He's a nice boy who they could understand like they'd never understand Emily. He'd be a good father of their grandchildren. The cousins would all be jealous. And they'd help him force me out of the BAU, force me to become a tame mother and daughter. I couldn't stand up to all of them.** _

_**Emily wouldn't make me leave the BAU, even if she wanted me to. And she knows how hard family can be. She's been there. If I had told her all this before she'd have understood.** _

_**But I just had to go have sex with Will.** _

_**And now I have to find a way to tell her, because I won't lie to her or hide something like this. She'd figure it out, or Will would call and she'd answer the phone, and it wouldn't occur to him not to tell her because he doesn't know. No one knows.** _

_**No one knows how I really feel about Emily Prentiss. No one knows because until recently, until this, I didn't know. They might have guessed. I'm sure they've made assumptions. But they don't know. And Emily doesn't know. She doesn't know because I'm too busy trying to become independent of everyone, especially my family and at the same time make them all like and love me.** _

_**She doesn't know because I didn't tell her when I had the chance.** _

_**The one person who may actually love me is the person I'm gonna hurt the most. The person I've fallen in love with is the person I think I might have pushed too far.**_ "

_Jennifer took a slow, trembling breath, her hair falling across her eyes, hiding her face._

" _I wrote that on the plane home," she explained softly, not giving the brunette a chance to speak "I promised myself I'd show you this. My shrink has me writing about all my doubts and fears, all the things that keep me from just... Letting go with you. I can't keep taking what you have to offer until I know you've seen all of me, and this is the only thing I could of to start that."_

_Unable to tolerate the frustrated fear and confusion in her beloved's voice, she pulled the younger agent to her, kissing her fiercely and unexpectedly. Jennifer shivered, then she was sobbing into Emily's chest, shaking her head almost violently._

" _I love you," the brunette whispered, making herself heard over her partner's keening, broken wail, "I love you so much. You haven't pushed me too far, my Jennifer. How could I walk away after that, even if I had wanted to, which I don't? You just want to be accepted. You want to be loved and accepted for the incredibly wonderful person you are. If you'll let me, I can give you that. Please let me, Jennifer. Please..."_

"Je... JJ knows what she did," Emily said simply, shaking herself free of the memory. She shook her head, refusing to let Garcia argue with her.

"She knows, Garcia," she repeated firmly, "And it totally sucks for both of us, but we're handling it."

She wouldn't accept any more arguments on that subject. Had Penelope seen Jennifer that day or heard the words she'd uttered so fearfully she'd understand why Emily couldn't be angry or upset. Oh, there were times her mind tried, but it never lasted long.

"I was hurt, Penelope," the brunette stated simply, "and I still am. That hasn't changed. What has is my understanding of the situation. Okay?"

The profiler had gotten up and was striding toward the door before the analyst could say anything, but Garcia's quiet voice caught her before she could escape entirely.

"Then why is it still so hard for you both to let each other in?"

Emily froze, her hand suspended in midair. She could feel her large friend watching her, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'll tell you, Emily. You're so busy  _protecting_  each other that you've wrapped yourselves up so tight it's amazing you can breathe. I get it with Jayj, Em. I do. But what are you so afraid of? You know she loves you. The woman adores you, Emily, and from the look on her face earlier she'd gladly jump your bones given half a chance. So why are you so afraid to let her see you?"

The profiler shivered, slowly turning back to the tech goddess, fighting tears. Something in the question had threatened all her control, leaving her reeling mentally.

"No, Garcia," she rasped, shaking her head slowly, "She's already seen me. That's not the problem."

"So what is?" Penelope pressed, staring at her with wide eyes that radiated sympathy, confusion, and concern, "What is it, Emily?"

Emily took a step to the side, leaning against the wall next to the door. Without meaning to, she brushed the scar on her face with her fingertips. When she realized what she'd done she stared at her hand, feeling lost inside her own skin.

"Today started out so well," she muttered absently, feeling a weight pressing against her skull. Suddenly the door next to her opened, and a blonde head poked in.

"Garcia have you seen- Emily!"

Jennifer slipped inside without another word, closing the door behind her, blue eyes shifting from her dark partner to her friend.

"What did you say to her?" she demanded, almost growling. Garcia relayed the strange conversation they'd had, and JJ sighed, turning from her large friend to the distant, blank woman next to her.

"Come on, Emily," she murmured gently, taking the hand the profiler had been staring at, "Let me take you home."

With a wave and what she hoped was a reassuring look at Penelope she led Emily out by the arm. The brunette followed her lead, but there was no energy or grace in it. Her partner was lost in her mind, which was a state JJ had learned to fear. All her energy and focus turned to getting her beloved friend somewhere the damaged woman's scattered mind would recognize as safe.

"Come on, sweetie," she whispered once they reached the car, silently praying that Emily would either come to her senses or at least not get any worse before they reached home, "Hang in there for me."

At her urging the older agent flopped gracelessly into her seat, and Jennifer leaned over to fasten her seatbelt for her. Before she could straighten and go around to her own seat, a hand brushed her face and she turned to look at its source, only to feel lips press against her own. She almost pulled back and away, but stopped herself when she remembered her conversation with Emily that morning. JJ forced herself to let go, to forget that they were in the parking lot at work and could be seen. Instead the liaison focused on the kiss, prolonging and deepening it. It was partially in passion, but the larger driving force was the hope that the unexpected gesture was a sign Emily was coming out of her head.

"Beautiful..."

The word came out as a rough sigh, and when she shifted to look into brown-black eyes she was met with such longing and trust that she could barely stop herself from going right back for more.

"Yes, you are," JJ replied instead, deliberately keeping her tone light and warm, "Are you back with me now?"

"Hmm."

Emily kissed her again, and this time it was a slow build to something more passionate, something Jennifer had a hard time resisting.

"I suppose I must be," the brunette murmured as they broke apart again, the slow, almost shy smile JJ had fallen in love with crossing her face, "but I wouldn't mind testing that in more detail."

Despite herself the liaison blushed, noticing as she looked away for a moment that her hand was resting on her partner's thigh.

"You always come to rescue me, you know," the profiler continued, drawing blue eyes back to her, "even in my nightmares. You always come."

"I always will," Jennifer promised, hearing her complete conviction and determination in the words. After a long moment of shared silence and a stare that melted her heart she carefully backing out of the car and closing the door, going around to the other side. Once she was settled she looked over, knowing even before she did that the dark eyes were tracking her every move.

"What happened, Em?" she queried gently, backing the vehicle up and getting them out of the parking lot, "You got a little lost there."

The taller woman nodded, never looking away from the blonde.

"Something Garcia asked me about why I can't seem to let you see all of me... It just sort of..."

Emily trailed off, and Jennifer took the opportunity presented by a stop light to glance over at her, worried when she saw some of the same sense of distance and loss in her face. Moving slowly so she wouldn't startle the other woman, she brushed her fingertips across Emily's sleeve, then slid her hand into the longer one. After a few seconds the profiler's fingers closed tightly around hers, much to her relief.

"Em?"

"You've seen me, Jennifer," Emily observed once they had started moving again, "Even though Garcia may not realize just how much. There's just this little bit that I hold back. You have me, heart, mind, and soul. But this little bit of me... It's that dark place where I bottle up all my doubts and fears. It's where I keep the memories of what happened, and the emotions that come with them. Today, that part of me got a little to close. And what Garcia said, about me not letting you see me... I don't want you to see that part. It's  _damaged_. I hate that part of me."

"But I don't, Emily," the blonde answered, tightening her grip on the hand she still held, "I'm not about to pick and choose parts of you that I love. That's not how it works. I may be a little new at all of this, but I know that much. Besides, I have a place like that too. How could I ever judge you for that?"

Feeling that the words were entirely inadequate, she sighed and repeated, "That's not how it works."

There was silence in the car again, and Jennifer contented herself with waiting. Finally Emily shook her head, a motion she caught out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm so tired. I don't think I'm really thinking clearly. I should know better."

"You should," the liaison teased, though she knew her eyes betrayed her, "but it's all right, Em. I'll make dinner tonight while you relax, maybe take a hot bath, and if you're very good I'll make you my special dessert."

Dark eyes widened, and Emily slowly started to smile.

" _Cioccolato,_ " the brunette breathed, and the one word was almost a moan. JJ jerked the wheel, but she managed to regain control before swerving into anything. She stayed quiet the rest of the trip home, not wanting to risk that again despite wanting to continue their discussion. Once there JJ herded her friend into the bathroom, setting out a robe, silk pajamas, and a towel before retreating, knowing full well she couldn't resist if Emily decided to give her a show, which she sometimes did. She forced herself to ignore the knowing smirk as she walked away, intentionally not looking back.

"That woman is going to be the death of me," she muttered to herself as she started to cook, finding comfort and clarity in the preparation of the meal they would eat. She was still worried, she decided. It had been too easy. JJ knew she shouldn't complain about easy at this point, since that was so rare, but something felt wrong. It wasn't until she was putting the finishing touches on the fish, rice, and vegetables she'd decided to steam that she figured out what it was. Emily shouldn't have been so tired that her mind caved in on itself, if only for a few minutes. She shouldn't have been exhausted enough for a case report to send her to the women's room to vomit.

"How much have you been sleeping?" she asked as she set out the plates, smiling at the short gasp the question caused. Emily had slid into the kitchen, probably planning to sneak up on her, but Jennifer was so in tune to the older agent that it had become very hard for her to catch the liaison off balance. She had felt those eyes on her back, watching her every move.

"How much?" she repeated, facing her partner and holding out a hand, smiling affectionately when the faintly pouting profiler took it and let herself be drawn into an embrace.

"How did you-"

"I can feel when you watch me," she replied to the unfinished question, "And I love that feeling, so don't start apologizing."

Emily blushed, her dark eyes shy.

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, Emily," JJ affirmed, still smiling, "I never told you. I would feel you watching me at work, and even more when we were out, and I never stopped to ask myself why it never bothered me. Now I know I was hoping one day you'd stop watching and-"

The thought was cut off when a pair of lips claimed hers with possessive tenderness, and she fell into their owner's grasp without thinking. The taller woman held her tightly, but with a gentleness that startled her a little. It was almost as if her partner was afraid she would break if she held on to tightly. That or bolt. She wasn't about to do either, however, even considering the creeping little voice in the back of her mind telling her to run. It was always there lately, but she was getting better at ignoring it.

"-do that," the liaison finished, gasping, when the kiss ended, blushing visibly as she added, "I love when you do that."

Emily smiled her sweet, shy smile, her expression a little fearful under her pleasure at the compliment. JJ eyed her worriedly, suddenly remembering that her initial question had never been answered. Close as they were, she couldn't help noticing the shadows around Emily's brown-black eyes and the pallor of her already somewhat pale face. Jennifer brushed the other agent's face with the back of one hand, feeling, as she expected, heat that was just a little too intense for health.

"You've got a fever, Em," she observed unhappily, "We need to get some food into you and you need to get some sleep. You can't have slept more than a few hours in the last few days."

Unexpectedly the profiler nodded, resting her head on the smaller agent's shoulder with a sigh.

"If that," Emily confirmed wearily, surprising the blonde again "I just can't sleep lately, Jennifer. Ever since we agreed..."

Blue eyes widened as the brunette trailed off, looking awkward and shy. The missing words,  _since we agreed not to sleep together_ , tore at her heart. She had thought them herself just that day. She hadn't been able to sleep lately either. The lack of Emily's solid warmth next to her had thrown her subconscious and unconscious for a loop. She struggled to fall asleep, and once sleeping her dreams where miserable and dark.

"Sweetie, why didn't you say anything?" she groaned, tightening her grip on the slender woman, "You should have told me."

"I... I didn't think of it until today," Emily replied miserably, her face pressing into the liaison's hair, "It didn't occur to me until I after I got sick today and couldn't figure out why it hit me so hard."

Jennifer sighed, pressing a kiss to the profiler's pale cheek before gently sitting her down at the table, going back to her cooking. Fortunately nothing had been scorched or ruined while she had been distracted, though she knew it wouldn't taste as good as it could have. She felt bad about that, as she had really hoped to serve Emily something particularly good tonight, but the other agent seemed not to notice. She ate slowly but with clear appreciation of the meal, and JJ found herself watching her partner curiously, silently tracking what Emily had eaten in the last few days. It hadn't been a lot, she realized. The older woman had eaten when they were together, but as far as she knew Em hadn't had lunch that day and she didn't think the brunette had eaten more than half her meals yesterday. She had been tired, the blonde remembered, and she hadn't had much of an appetite. As she considered, though, Jennifer knew why she hadn't noticed sooner. She'd been feeling the same sluggish lethargy she was seeing in the woman across from her. The fog had lifted when she saw Emily in distress, though, and she started planning ways to make things up to her companion. The first step of that plan she had already set into motion, and once the larger portion of the meal was done she brought out the promised 'special dessert', in response to which Emily muttered her one word prayer. She rarely made desserts, but she was very good at one thing in particular: Molten Chocolate Cake. She had made it in the form of cupcakes this time for ease of consumption, and Emily inhaled one, then followed it up with a second. This time she took it very slow, savoring each bite and looking at her with such wanton appreciation that Jennifer was hard pressed to keep from acting on the promises in that look. The only thing that really worked was remembering the sick, exhausted Emily she had seen earlier, and with that image on her mind she finished her dessert. Once the brunette was done eating they cleaned up together, JJ deciding the benefit of their closeness, regretfully platonic though it was, outweighed any benefit of trying to talk the stubborn profiler into going to bed right away. Once they had finished, Emily started to head for her room, but the liaison caught her arm.

"Jennifer?" the profile asked, clearly startled. Jennifer smiled gently, sliding her hand down the strong arm she held, tangling it with Emily's. She knew her friend well enough to know Em might have taken her refusal to act earlier as some sort of lack of interest, but that was far from the truth. She got a pleasant thrill out of the tremor that went through the brunette's body in response to the caress, cementing her sense of rightness in what she was doing.

"Stay with me tonight, Em."

"Jen-"

"Stay with me," she repeated, giving no room for argument. She led Emily into her room by the hand, pulling out a set of pajamas for her partner and slipping into the bathroom to change herself, her eyes giving a warning for the other woman not to go anywhere. When she returned the profiler was sitting in bed, clearly nervous, but when she saw Jennifer she smiled, her body relaxing noticeably.

"We should get some sleep, sweetheart," she murmured, and JJ smiled back, sliding under the covers. Emily hesitated long enough that she found herself grinning. She pulled on the taller agent's arm until she gave in, laying down and wrapping said arm around Jennifer's waist.

"See, it's not so bad. We can do this," the blonde whispered reassuringly. Emily mumbled in wordless agreement, pressing a kiss to her neck that nearly undid her resolve and restraint. Determined to get through the night without crossing the boundaries they'd set for themselves, JJ forced her body to relax, and much sooner than she had expected she was falling asleep. The last thing she was aware of was the sound of Emily's voice in her ear.

" _Sonno bene, mia bella amore._ "

***************

**Date and Time: November 23, 2007 23:39**

**Location:** **Club Near FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia**

"Come on! We should be dancing!" Garcia exclaimed, half-exasperated at the worried, doubting looks her friends and colleagues were directing at her, "I'm not going to break in half, you know!"

Emily glanced at JJ, immediately noticing the weighted cast to her features and the heaviness of her shoulders, and decided that despite her misgivings about the shape Garcia was in, she needed to get her blonde friend out of her head, and the best way she knew to do that was by getting them out on the floor.

"She's right, you know," the profiler declared, managing to put a genuine-looking grin on her face by way of sheer determination, "We came here to have a party. So, let's party!"

Penelope was obviously startled by her change in attitude, but the tech goddess wasn't about to pass up the opportunity the profiler had just handed her.

"Up with you, Derek! Jayj, up, up, up! Don't make me drag you out there!"

It was obvious to both women their fair colleague was about to refuse, but Emily wasn't giving in so easily. She reached out as instinctively as she had that night in the hospital, inwardly amazed that it had been such a short time since that awful night in the hospital when all she could do to comfort her terrified, exhausted best friend was sit with her and hold her hand. JJ turned to her as she hadn't that night, closing her hand around the brunette's. Blue eyes traveled from her face to their joined hands and back, and slowly they softened.

"Yeah," the liaison agreed finally, her lips finally shaping into a smile, "let's dance."

This time Emily knew her own answering smile to be real, and for a moment she forgot everyone but the woman holding her hand. Garcia's giggles as Derek escorted her out of the booth drew her back to the present, but it also gave her an idea.

"Go on, I'll be right there," she assured her friend, squeezing her hand before lightly pushing her out of the booth. Somehow Hotch must have picked up on something. He offered his arm to the blonde, giving Emily a quick, approving glance. Once she was sure her colleagues were out of sight, she slid around the floor to the DJ's booth, her inner voice, which often sounded like her mother, berating her for what she was about to do. JJ, dancing with Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan, heard the music changed and threw an idle glance toward the small, raised platform designed for the brave souls who got up the nerve to sing, then did a double-take as her dark friend appeared there, mic in hand. To anyone who didn't know her, Emily Prentiss must have looked confident and self assured, but JJ knew her better. The poor woman was as nervous as the liaison had ever seen her, but there she was, stunning in her simple dark blue overshirt, deep red tanktop, and black jeans, and looking straight into the blonde's eyes as she started to sing.

_Time, is going by, so much faster than I,_

_And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you._

_Now I'm, wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside,_

_So I'm starting to regret not telling all of it to you._

_So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know..._

_You're never gonna be alone!_

_From this moment on,_

_If you ever feel like letting go,_

_I won't you fall..._

_Never gonna be alone!_

_I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone._

_And now, as long as I can,_

_I'm holding on with both hands,_

_'Coz forever I believe that there's nothing I could need but you,_

_So if I haven't yet,_

_I've gotta let you know..._

As Emily started in on the chorus, her dark eyes still fixed on JJ, the blonde found she had a new level of appreciation for the brilliant profiler's many talents. Emily wasn't the best singer she'd ever heard, but her voice was clearly trained, and any flaws in her singing were readily excused. The quick glance JJ sent around the room told her that anyone who was paying any attention at all had turned to appreciate the gorgeous woman on stage with her powerful voice and intense focus. What they failed to notice, the blonde saw, was that all that intense focus was directly on the small group of federal agents as she got to the second half of the chorus.

_When all hope is gone_

_I know that you can carry on_

_We're gonna take the world on_

_I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone_

_Ooooh!_

_You've gotta live every single day,_

_Like it's the only one,_

_What if tomorrow never comes?_

_Don't let it slip away,_

_Could be our only one,_

_You know it's only just begun._

_Every single day,_

_Maybe our only one,_

_What if tomorrow never comes?_

_Tomorrow never comes..._

_Time, is going by, so much faster than I,_

_And I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you._

"She's got a voice on her," Garcia muttered almost giddily in her ear as the chorus started again. JJ nodded somewhat absently, dancing more out of habit than intent. She hadn't seen this side of Emily until that night in the hospital. She had known Prentiss had depth and heart, but until that night she had never expected to find herself needing the other woman so badly. Tonight, as she watched Emily singing to her, she found herself coming out of the fog she'd fallen into after killing Battle. For the first time since then her heart felt whole, and she smiled up at the older woman, getting a brilliant smile in return.

_I'm gonna be there all the way,_

_I won't be missing one more day,_

_I'm gonna be there all the way,_

_I won't be missing one more day._

Emily bowed a little awkwardly as the club's patrons cheered and applauded, JJ loudest among them. When the brunette made her way to the BAU team's little piece of dance floor, Hotch was smiling, Morgan was grinning broadly, and Garcia almost tackled the dark agent in her enthusiasm. JJ stood back, watching and waiting. When her friend turned to her, she simply smiled affectionately. The brunette blushed darkly, turning away even as her hand caressed the younger woman's bare arm. Jennifer trembled silently praising and cursing the impulse that had driven her to wearing the particular sleeveless black top she had on. She was tired, physically and emotionally drained, and that was making her respond strangely to the familiar gesture. No one had touched her since that night, since Garcia's hug and Emily rubbing her back. The profiler didn't let go, either. The gentle caress turned had turned into an equally gentle hold at some point, and she found herself dancing with the dark agent without knowing when she started moving along with the music. She fell into the rhythm with surprising ease considering how dark her mood had been coming here.

" _Never Gonna be Alone,_ " Emily whispered as they moved to the moderately fast music that was blaring from all sides. When JJ looked askance at her dance partner, she smiled and tilted her head toward the stage. The gesture was enough of an explanation, and she nodded her understanding, leaning into the tall, dark agent and hugging her tightly in silent thanks. Emily hugged her back, and they danced, part of the circle of their teammates but still a part of their own world. One time Hotch broke in to dance with Emily, then JJ as Morgan took hold of the dark woman for a fast song, but inevitably the two were drawn back together, JJ seeking the comfort provided by the strong, soft hands and brown-black eyes the way a person lost in a blizzard would seek heat. Emily was her anchor, and when they left the club hour later it came as no surprise when the brunette took her hand and drove her home, sitting with her on the couch while they sipped tea together in silence. Finally JJ sighed, looking up at her patient companion and smiling, her hand brushing the other woman's.

"Thank you so much, Emily... for everything, really, but especially for tonight. That song..."

She trailed off, finding no words to describe the incredible  _specialness_  she had felt when the woman had gotten on that stage in front of the crowd and their colleagues to sing that song for  _her_.

"It's true, you know."

Brown-black eyes had turned to liquid darkness in the dim light, and not for the first time she had the random thought that if Emily were a man, she'd be just the type JJ would want to marry. But it would be so wrong for the beautiful agent to be a man.

"What?" she asked curiously, and the profiler smiled, turning her hand to clasp the blonde's.

" _You're never gonna be alone!_

_From this moment on,_

_If you ever feel like letting go,_

_I won't you fall..._ "

The soft, unsure voice seemed to fill her living room as it had filled the club, but the liaison knew that was just her perception. Emily looked so shy, but at the same time there was a calm about her, as if she knew, as JJ was starting to, that their friendship had been polished and perfected that night in the hospital, and tonight was just a natural extension of that. Her hands, which hadn't felt right since then, since they had shot a man, were a part of her again, and Emily was holding both of them, catching her again.

"I know, Emily. Me too," she promised quietly, resting her head on the slim but strong shoulder next to her and closing her eyes. Penelope had been saved, Battle had been killed, and sweet, patient Emily had caught her before she could fall. Her family was safe. She could wake up from that nightmare now, and actually get some sleep. They both could, she realized. After all... She had caught Emily too, without even knowing it.


	12. Obsession

**_Obsession_ : **An unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone

**Date and Time: March 25, 2008, 10:08 AM**

**Location: BAU Jet, In the Air Over Virginia**

"We got the file for this case last week, and sent a profile back. Unfortunately, in the last few days the situation has escalated. This morning, I received further information, which you're all familiar with. We've all seen the file. There's been a series of strange kidnappings outside of Waco, Texas."

As the liaison passed out files containing the now semi-familiar information, Emily glanced over at Rossi, seeing, as she'd half expected, a faint twinge of anger and something undefinable cross his face. He remembered Waco, and he didn't want to.

"These are some of the strangest kidnappings I've ever seen," she commented aloud, purposely drawing attention away from her senior colleague, "No violence, but the people are all relatively healthy, with some capability of self defense... The fact the profile suggests an older man without the physical strength to subdue these people brings up the question of drugs or something similar."

Hotch nodded from his seat across the way, looking through the file as thoroughly as she was, probably seeing the same abnormalities she had.

"It rather resembles what Frank used to do," he observed quietly, glancing between the written report and the photos, "but unlike Frank, this man doesn't seen capable of moving unconscious bodies on his own, but there's no indication of an accomplice."

"So what?" Morgan asked, shaking his head slightly in confusion and frustration at the contradictions everyone had agreed were present, "Is he coercing them? We know he's not blitzing them. He wouldn't be able to."

"Frank used ketamine," JJ remarked slowly, avoiding anyone's gaze as she usually did when giving her thoughts during these discussions, "to keep his victims conscious while he cut them apart. What if this man is giving them something to make them more cooperative? Maybe something that will make them weak  _and_  malleable while still conscious and mobile?"

The silence following her suggestion made the golden skin redden, but Emily shook her head, smiling with a little more open affection than she had intended.

"You've got a good point, JJ," Reid agreed thoughtfully before the brunette could say anything, his sincerity unmistakable, "There are any number of drugs that could be used either alone or in combination that would make a person controllable. In fact-"

"I can think of a few off-hand," Morgan interjected, eager to forestall one of Spencer's frequent lectures, "I've been talking to some old buddies in the DEA about some of their recent cases, and they were sayin' they've been seeing a big rise in the sale and use of amphetamines."

"Amphetamines?" JJ repeated, tilting her head curiously as if trying to remember the classification, "Isn't Ecstasy in that group?"

"Among others," the genius answered approvingly, his eyes excited, "although Ecstasy isn't purely an amphetamine. It's-"

"Ecstasy could be used for what our UnSub needs," Hotch interrupted, giving Reid a quick warning glance laced with affectionate amusement he wouldn't have shown in front of others, "Especially if it were cut with something else. It's a good thought, JJ. When we land, you and Morgan work with any local Narcotics or DEA officials, and any pharmacy or MD that may have had stock, and perhaps an employee, go missing recently."

Jennifer's blush was a proud one this time, and Emily grinned at her, proud of her partner for thinking of something that the over-thinking profilers had missed. It never bothered her when her beloved thought of something she hadn't, though sometimes it did when her other colleagues came up with ideas that she had missed. If anything should have tipped her off sooner, she realized, that might have been it.

" _Je t'aime,_ " the brunette whispered as she passed her partner, apparently to hand some notes over to Hotch. JJ's blush darkened, but she hid it well. Emily refocused on the case, or at least made sure she looked as if she had, but the brush of tanned skin against her arm as she turned to go back to her seat threw her back to waking up that morning, before the call had come in and before they had been anything but two people facing a new day.

" _Mm..." Emily murmured, coming out of a very deep sleep to find herself pressing against the warmth at her back, warmth that somehow snaked around to her front. The source of that heat mumbled in return, and only then did the brunette start to remember just where she was, and who she was with. A slow grin spread across her face as she realized just how deep and rejuvenating her rest had been. There was none of the darkness about her thoughts or the weary strain in her body that she had been waking up to, but there was something new that took her a moment to place. When she did, she was torn between blushing and grinning and settled for doing both._

" _Jennifer," she called softly, laughing to herself when her partner grumbled sleepily and held on to her more tightly. She whispered a prayer in Arabic, just a few simple words to greet and praise the day and God for granting it to her, then tried again._

" _Jennifer, mi amor, it's time to wake up."_

_Again all she got for her troubles was a soft, sleepy grumble and a leg tossed over hers, clearly intended to keep her from moving. Grinning to herself, Emily stretched under the arm holding her, prompting the hand attached to it to take a more solid, possessive hold on the flesh it gripped. Despite herself the profiler gasped, drawing her companion into the waking world as words alone couldn't have._

" _Emily?" JJ asked, her voice groggy and confused, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"_

" _I'm fine," she assured the blonde quickly, although some part of her argued that 'fine' wasn't exactly the word for what she was, "You with me now?"_

" _Mm-hmm," the liaison agreed sleepily, less interested in wakefulness now that she'd established her partner wasn't hurt or in distress, "Why're you awake, Emily? It's too early in the morning. Can't you take a day off your self-imposed torture?"_

 _That "torture" was the exercise routine Emily had prescribed for herself to regain the muscle tone she had lost while Samis had starved her, a routine Jennifer often argued was too strenuous. This morning, Emily was inclined to agree that maybe she_ could _take a day off, but she knew her reasons were less than precisely virtuous._

" _Jennifer, my love, I'd love to stay in bed with you as long as you'd like," she replied carefully, all too aware of how true that was, "but I'm afraid if you keep doing what you're doing, there's no way we're making it to work, or anywhere else today."_

" _Huh?"_

_The taller woman brushed her hand against where Jennifer's was tracing some invisible pattern under her nightshirt, blushing hotly as the calloused fingertips reached the base of her breast again and started working their way up and around it. She had woken to find her breast had been claimed by a very possessive Jennifer Jareau at some point during the night, and while heart and body argued very passionately against that hand being removed, both then and now, the reality was she didn't trust herself not to find something else for it to do, something that would go completely against the limits they had set for their physical relationship. Her mind unhelpfully pointed out that those boundaries were already pretty blurry considering just where Jennifer's hand was, but she had already decided that was no excuse. JJ reaching out in her sleep and laying a claim she could excuse. Her taking advantage of the situation she couldn't... Or so she wanted to believe._

" _Oh... God... Emily..." the blonde stuttered when she finally realized what her hand was doing to the older woman, who by that time had lost much of her will to argue the point. The realization had come at the tail end of a soft moan, and the profiler could feel the heat of a dark blush burning her neck where her bedmate's face was buried._

" _I don't want to ask you to stop," she managed to murmur honestly, despite what most of her really_ wanted _to say or do, "I would kind of prefer you didn't... But if you don't, we aren't leaving this bed and all those careful rules we came up with are going to straight to hell. I'm not sure either of us is quite ready for that."_

_Emily shivered as the hand in her shirt abruptly stopped and started to withdraw, then hesitated, still touching the bare skin of her abdomen._

" _Emily, I..."_

_The brunette braced herself, know that if JJ pushed right now while she was in this state, and after the dream she could vividly recall having, she wouldn't be able to say no again. She hadn't wanted to the first time, but she had done so out of a sense of responsibility that was rapidly fading. She was, after all, only human, not a saint, and the woman touching her with such unconscious possessiveness and desire was the person she most wanted to give everything to._

" _You're right," Jennifer finally finished, her hand sliding out from under Emily's shirt. The profiler felt its loss far too keenly, and would have pulled it right back where it had been had JJ not laid it gently on her belly, over the night shirt this time. The touch was still intimate and possessive, but also loving and soothing in a way she badly needed to regain her bearings just then._

" _Not yet, my Emily, not yet," the liaison whispered, her tone as regretful as Emily felt, "I didn't mean to..."_

" _It's all right," she broke in, quick to reassure her partner that she understood what had happened, "You can't control what your unconscious self does, Jennifer... and I can't exactly say I didn't like where that was going."_

" _I know I did," the younger agent muttered, her words just barely audible. Emily smiled, turning around abruptly so they were face to face, keeping herself from kissing JJ by sheer force of will rather than any desire to be so restrained._

" _Work awaits," she declared, hoping the comment would calm her raging heart and over-sensitized body as well as her partner's, but rapidly realized that short of pulling herself out of this warm nest and taking a_ very _cold shower, there was nothing that was going to be able to keep her from taking a step they might not be ready to take._

And had Jennifer not moved first, Emily decided, returning to the present, she wasn't sure she could have stopped herself. JJ had been the one to get up and start the day, and only after her blonde partner had slipped into the bathroom and out of sight had she been able to get any real control over her far too active hormones and imagination. They had showered, dressed, and gone about their routines separately, rejoining for a breakfast that could barely be tasted for the fireworks that had flown between them whenever they touched or their eyes met. More than once she had seen Jennifer questioning the wisdom of having them sleep together again, and privately Emily agreed. It wasn't wise at all. It was dangerous, and could very well lead to one or both of them crossing their self-imposed boundaries, but the fact was it was also necessary. They might be able to cope separately during the day, but at night they were far too aware of the darkness to be alone.

"Emily?"

The dark woman looked up, drawn out of her thoughts by Reid. Thankfully the young prodigy was so caught up in what he was doing he hadn't noticed her distraction, and her teammates were too busy eyeing Spencer oddly to notice her.

"Yes, Reid?" she urged gently, realizing that the doctor was getting at least as caught up in thought as she had been, though most likely on a totally different track.

"Oh, yeah... So, I think you're right. Most likely the profile is almost entirely accurate. A disgruntled pharmacist would easily be able to get what he needed to pull this off. It could also explain some other oddities. If he's taking some sort of psychedelic drug himself, it could explain what caused him to escalate this far."

"You mean he's doing it as part of some delusion?" Morgan asked carefully, obviously trying to phrase the question in a way that didn't invite a lecture.

"It would make sense!" the pale agent replied, nodding several times as he worked through his own thoughts, "Some of the strangest aspects of this case would make much more sense when viewed in that light."

The "stranger aspects of this case" were strange enough that Emily was all but forced to agree it would take someone on some powerful drugs to even think of the things this man had done. Targeting older couples wasn't all that strange, but tying up one member of the couple and leaving them locked in their own house and unharmed while taking the other was a little odd. Painting their faces, however, was more so. It wasn't with threatening messages, with their own blood, or anything otherwise violent, however, and if nothing else that was what stood out. He had painted butterflies, flowers, even a peace sign on his victims. The other half of the ten couples, however, hadn't been located, and that was what had caused the BAU to be called in.

"Is it weird that we're so worried because this guy  _isn't_ painting demonic symbols or threats on these people, or using their own blood?" she asked aloud, looking through the pictures again as she did. It was disturbing to see images usually associated with innocence in their files, she realized.

"Maybe a little," Derek agreed with a grin as he followed her train of thought, "but there's so much weird about this case that I think it's okay if a little rubs off."

She chuckled, sighing as she turned to look at the patchwork of clouds and earth passing below them.

"Get Garcia on the line and ask her to run a search," Hotch was saying, and the brunette listened without looking back, knowing she had done her part for the moment and now it was Garcia's turn. As usual the tech goddess was prompt, and by the time they landed they had a good working profile added on to the preliminary report the locals already had. With the facts they had on hand their resident tech goddess was able to put together a reasonable list, but there was something of a hitch, and that was the reason they were in Texas rather than in Virginia working this over the phone. As far as the profilers were concerned, the man they were after was well known in the small community, and had probably been interviewed by the local police already. The Sheriff who had called them in had been the first to suggest this, though he had done so grudgingly. They respected his willingness to admit a fault in himself and his people, and the fact was the case would run cold if someone didn't step in to stop the kidnappings and find the missing men and women. As far as the locals were concerned, however, they were intruders in what should have been a community matter, and only the Sheriff's stubborn insistence that they be welcomed had garnered them an office to work in and any cooperation at all. Garcia's digging had given them a good starting point, and within a few interviews, JJ reported that she'd found an odd trend.

"It's not so much what they're saying that got my attention," the blonde explained when the team gathered around the conference table, "but the name Ren Krue, a philosophy professor living nearby, has come up multiple times. I don't know if she would be a suspect, exactly. I hadn't gotten that impression. It's more like everyone seems to think that Ms. Krue knows more about what's going on than anyone else. If nothing else, she seems to know just about everyone, and she might have some information that wouldn't occur to others. She has an office along with some other academics a little outside of town."

Hotch nodded, glancing over the address and background information Jennifer had already gotten from Garcia, frowning a bit at something.

"Hotch?" Morgan asked curiously, seeing the same thing Emily had, "Something wrong?"

The unit chief shook his head slowly, handing the file back to Jennifer.

"You and Agent Prentiss go to her office and try to talk to Ms. Krue. If you can't get her to answer your questions today, try to set up another meeting with her. Morgan, I want you to go with them. Reid, work on the geographical profile with Rossi. These attacks are spread out all over the area. We need to try to establish a pattern and narrow down where the UnSub might be taking the people he kidnaps."

"Preferably  _before_  he takes someone else," Rossi muttered, and the rest of the team agreed, separating to go about their tasks. The drive to meet the philosophy professor was a blessedly short one as the vehicle they had been given by the local agents had been lacking in air conditioning, and despite the season Texas was baking around them. Morgan wiped his bald head, obviously uncomfortable in his heavy black pants, boots, and muscle shirt. He had already stripped off the jacket he'd brought with him from Virginia back at the office, as had the rest of the team, but it just wasn't enough.

"When we get back, I'm going to have a long talk with the agent who gave us this hunk of junk," he growled. A glance at Emily and JJ told him they agreed, but JJ was shaking her head, pulling sweat-soaked blonde hair into a loose ponytail.

"They're trying to get to us, Derek," she warned, blue eyes reflecting his own anger, "They  _want_  us to get angry and offended, because they don't want us here."

"We're here to help them, though," he argued, but sighed as he said it, adding quietly, "but it doesn't matter. They may want to help these people, but they want to do it without us. Why? Why is it so important that they accomplish this without help from the BAU?"

"Because if our profile is right," Emily murmured quietly, dark eyes fixed on the building ahead of them, apparently tracing the relief above the door, "They've deliberately avoided facing the truth. A federal agent can't afford to do that. If we find out the UnSub is someone they dismissed due to a personal relationship, they could lose a lot. Possibly even their jobs. They're good agents, Derek. I asked Garcia for their files before we left. The agents here are some of the best in the state, and several of them have received multiple commendations over the years. This could ruin their careers, and if they go down, they'll blame us, not their own actions."

The former football star eyed his colleague curiously, a little surprised. Emily was thorough in any case, but checking up on the local agents? Without turning to look at him, the brunette shrugged.

"We knew the local agents had dismissed the members of their community. We knew they were searching outside the town for suspects, or holding transients and travelers. We knew they'd probably be obstructive when we got here. I wanted to know why."

Derek nodded slowly, about to head into the building, but the odd look on JJ's face stopped him. The liaison brushed Emily's arm, and still the brunette didn't turn, and that was weird. Those dark eyes  _always_  tracked to the blonde. Even when she had barely been conscious and recovering from surgery Emily had responded to JJ's touch.

"Emily?"

The brunette blinked slowly, finally looking down at her partner.

" _Je me rappelle..._ " she murmured softly, " _Je sais pas,_ Jennifer."

She glanced at Derek, then shook her head, switching back to English when she saw his confused expression. If he wasn't mistaken, she hadn't even realized she hadn't been speaking in English. He had never seen her slip like that during a case, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I remember something from one of the files, something about a building that had that scene... I just can't place it. If Reid were here he'd remember, but it wasn't this address. It's strange that two buildings in the same area would have this particular scene."

"Why's that?" he asked curiously. He had noticed the relief before, but all he knew about it was that it was Greco-Roman art and very detailed. He took a closer look now, but he would be the first to admit that greek mythology wasn't his strong suit.

"It's the goddess Athena's birth," JJ explained quietly, "In the myth, Athena, the goddess of war and wisdom, was "born" fully formed inside Zeus's skull. The god of fire and craftsmen, called Vulcan by the Romans and Hephaestus by the Greeks, uses his own axe to cut open Zeus's skull, "giving birth" to Athena."

"Some philosophers argue that this story is supposed to imply that because Athena was born entirely from Zeus's body, she was the symbolic heir to his throne, and she was given her place as goddess of wisdom and war to bring balance," a strange voice remarked, and the three profilers looked away from the carving of a woman rising from the broken skull of a man while a huge smith looked on. A woman in her late 30's or early 40's was approaching them, brushing dark brown hair out of an angular face. She was a little overweight for her build, he noted, as if she had once been lean and athletic and had only recently lost her figure.

"You must be the agents my assistant told me I was to meet with. I'm Catherine Krue, but everyone calls me Ren."

"I'm Agent Jareau," JJ replied immediately, slipping into what Garcia called her 'alpha blonde' mask, also referred to as her 'don't fuck with me, I know what I'm doing, bitch' glare by the same person. It was the face she wore when she was uncomfortable with someone immediately. It was an instinctive reaction he had seen more than a few times, and he had learned to respect it. JJ liked people as a rule, even though she saw the worst in them as they all did. When she took an immediate dislike to a person, there was usually a reason for it.

"Yes, Agent Jareau. You spoke with my assistant on the phone. You called to ask about those strange disappearances?"

JJ nodded, her expression guarded. "Disappearances" was an odd word to use in this case, and the former football player didn't miss the way Krue had emphasized the word. It was stranger still considering he knew the blonde had said they were asking about "abductions" when she had spoken to the philosopher's assistant.

"These are Agents Prentiss and Morgan," the liaison introduced, gesturing to them in turn, "they'll be the ones interviewing you if you're willing to meet with them."

Ren nodded, taking a PDA out of her pocket.

"I have a meeting to attend in a few minutes," she replied somewhat distractedly, working on the small device, "I'm surprised my assistant didn't inform you, but I may have forgotten to tell her again. but if you'd like to discuss something..."

She trailed off, then stopped and scanned the screen before looking back up, smiling warmly at Emily. A little too warmly, in Derek's opinion, and from the way JJ's face stiffened momentarily, she agreed.  _He_  had given women that look before. It was meant to convey interest, an interest that was sure to be reciprocated. Emily's dark gaze never wavered, and neither did her smile, but the way her hands tightened behind her back told him she was aware both of the philosopher's attraction to her and her partner's response to it. That was reassuring, he decided. Emily's instincts were right on, as usual, and this case was going to demand everything they had.

"I'll be available in about two hours, if you'd like to meet then."

JJ nodded slowly, looking back at her colleagues and waiting for their agreement.

"I'd like to take a look at some things here," Emily admitted, "I'd be willing to wait."

"I'll stay too," he agreed when the blonde looked like she might says something revealing, "Anything but driving that damn thing back to the office and then here again."

He gave the philosopher his best grin, but though she smiled back, it was clear her interest was mostly on Emily.

'Why is it,' he wondered to himself, 'that we keep running into lesbians? We've had more cases involving lesbians in the last few weeks than in the last year.'

That might have been an exaggeration, he admitted privately, but not much of one. Keira Datton and Jenna Odari would haunt the team for a long time, and he just hoped this woman wouldn't be another ghost to torment his family at the BAU. The ones they had were enough. It was an irrational association, he knew, but one he couldn't stop himself from making.

"Very well. I'll be back as soon as possible. A pleasure meeting you agents, and my apologies for having to leave so quickly."

And leave she did, though not without another long look at all three agents. There was no mistaking the way she was sizing them up, and Derek had to wonder just what it was she was looking for, or what she hoped to gain. The team had known about the connection between their beautiful colleagues long before Emily and JJ had. He and Garcia had talked about it any number of times, and the team had all agreed it was plain as day for anyone who knew human behavior. Now, however, the obviousness of the relationship wasn't quite so funny. The look Krue had given JJ in particular had been almost nasty, though concealed behind a polite smile, and he didn't like the vibe he got from her. He tried to put words to his sense of unease, a sense he could tell his companions shared, but JJ's phone rang before he had sorted it out.

"Hotch, you've got me, Emily, and Morgan. Any news?" JJ answered, putting the phone on speaker.

"We've made some progress narrowing our list of suspects, and we have some new information on Ms. Krue. I take it you weren't able to talk to her?"

"She had a meeting she forgot to tell her assistant about," Derek explained, picturing his boss filing away the information and nodding slightly, "She said we could talk to her in about two hours. Emily and I were planning on staying out here and possibly talking to some other people, including Krue's assistant. Something is off about that woman, Hotch."

"Anything specific, or..."

"Nothing specific," Emily replied, sounding as unsure as he felt, "just a feeling. We may not be able to pin it down until we talk to her, but in the meantime I'd like to find out more about her."

"I'll ask Garcia to dig a little deeper," Hotch agreed, and Morgan smiled to himself, silently basking in the trust implied by that statement. Their Unit Chief knew they wouldn't have brought it up if they didn't think it was relevant.

"In the meantime," their boss continued, "I'm going to have Rossi pick JJ up on his way back from the latest crime scene. We need the press's cooperation if we're going to solve this case, and the people I've talked to haven't exactly been cooperative."

"They rarely are at first," the liaison muttered irritably, and Derek chuckled lowly, as did Emily. Even the most hard-headed of reporters had a hard time refusing Jennifer Jareau for very long when she was determined, and in a way he sort of pitied anyone who tried today. His companions did an admirable job of keeping their relationship and their work separate, for the most part, but that didn't stop one from affecting the other, and JJ was annoyed at the very least. He would be if he were in her place, if he were honest. Some stranger had designs on JJ's woman, and Morgan wasn't about to see someone messing with them when they were just starting to get things moving.

"How soon will Rossi be here?" Emily asked, and there was a pause. After a moment Hotch was back, talking briefly with someone on the other end of the line before answering.

"He should be there in a few minutes. The crime scene was only ten miles or so from where you are."

Derek brought up a map of the area on his phone, the locations of the various crime scenes already marked from their earlier review of the case.

"You know, Hotch, that's the first time there's been an abduction anywhere near here. All the other times the UnSub abducted people from outlying areas far from both here and the busier parts of town."

Hotch was quiet again, then Reid's voice came over the phone.

"You're right! All the previous abductions took place at least twice that distance from those offices. That could be a deliberate pattern, and if it is Krue could have some connection to him. Then again that office building  _is_  in a less traveled area and-"

"We'll hold off on speculation for the moment," Hotch's voice cut in, and the three agents smiled at each other, familiar with Reid's intense focus, "but I do think we should follow up on that idea. Good work."

"What idea?" Rossi's voice asked from behind them, and Emily shifted to let him into their small circle.

"JJ can explain on your way back here," the Unit Chief assured him calmly, "Prentiss, Morgan, find out anything you can about Krue while you're there. Also, try to get some sense of anyone else who may either be involved or at the very least have some relationship with the UnSub. You both know what to look for."

They agreed to do so, and JJ ended the call, putting her phone away and eyeing her colleagues. Her blue eyes rested longest on Derek, and he sighed silently. That gaze wasn't the confident, trusting look he might have gotten from her a few months ago. She didn't entirely trust him to watch her partner's back, and he couldn't even blame her. If he had been in her place, he wouldn't trust the guy who let his girl get snatched. It didn't help his sense of guilt that the warning was so clear, as if it hung between them in bold black letters.  _You're responsible for her safety. If she gets hurt, I'm holding you accountable,_ it said, and he nodded, accepting that charge. He would have anyway, since it was part of his job, but watching Emily's back had become a special priority for their team. First it had been Garcia they had almost lost, and he still felt intensely protective of the crazy analyst, even months after the shooting. Emily's abduction and torture was more raw, a barely healed wound on all the members of the team, and not one he was about to see torn open again. Looking at JJ now, he saw his own fear and concern writ larger and bolder across her eyes when she turned to her partner, and he could only imagine how hard it was for her to smile as if nothing was wrong, brush the brunette's back with her fingertips, and turn away with Rossi. He watched her walk away and refuse to turn back, and he watched Emily watch the retreating agents before she turned to him, her face a mask of professionalism.

"Let's get started then."

He followed her lead, still considering the implications of what he'd just seen, as well as the larger context around it. He had always believed there was sound reasoning behind the Bureau's policy about inter-team relationships, though he didn't always agree with it as a whole. They complicated already complex situations, and they distracted people from their jobs. In some ways those two were a prime example. Their relationship was a distraction both to each other and to the team, but these days he saw something the higher-ups in the Bureau wouldn't understand. The link between Prentiss and JJ was almost tangible. They would finish each other's sentences without realizing it, and where one might lose her train of thought the other would pick it up. The pair of them were better people and better agents together than they had been apart, and  _that_  was why Hotch had refused to step in and separate them. He could have, Derek knew. The ramifications if the Bureau found out would fall largely on Hotch's shoulders as Unit Chief, but cold, humorless, strict Agent Hotchner had chosen to back his agents and support their relationship. He had been the one to keep any rumors or backlash from reaching JJ and Emily when the brunette had moved in with JJ, and he had kept the agency from looking too closely at the reasons for the move.

"Prentiss?"

The dark woman turned, brown-black eyes searching his. He had surprised her, he knew. His voice had come out softer than he'd intended, and he had no doubt the look on his face mirrored his tone.

"You know all of us have your backs, right?" he asked quietly, and she frowned a little, eyeing him closely as if unsure of what he meant. He knew better, though. She wasn't sure if she should trust him. She had looked at him that way since the mess with Keira Datton. It wasn't just JJ and Emily that case was haunting, he knew. It haunted him as well. He had made mistakes he continued to regret, and continued to pay for. He loved both female agents almost as much as he did his sisters, and this quiet estrangement hurt. Not being trusted by his team was a strange experience, and not one he enjoyed in the least.

"Emily..."

"It's all right," the brunette interrupted gently, her face relaxing into a smile, "I know, Derek. We're grateful. But right now we have a job to do, and something weird is going on here. We'll talk about it after this case, okay?"

He nodded, agreeing somewhat reluctantly. It wasn't that Emily was off in her assessment or anything. He just wanted the situation resolved, and putting it off bothered him. He liked action, and he hated being on the outs with his team and not able to fix it right away. With a quiet sigh at his own impatience, Derek followed the older agent into the office complex, taking a closer look at the relief above the door as he did. It was kind of a strange scene, and Emily had been right. It would be kind of weird for that image to be in two places in the same town, particularly so considering that as far as he knew this was the only place so dedicated to history and philosophy, other than the town library.

"Hey Morgan, take a look at this," Emily called from across the lobby, and he shook himself, wondering how she'd gotten so far ahead of him. He had promised himself and JJ, however indirectly, that he'd protect his dark-haired companion, and he wasn't getting off to a good start.

"What is it?" he asked, striding over. She pointed to one of the many papers posted up on a bulletin board that covered most of one of the lobby's walls. He followed the gesture, his eyes widening as he read the notice.

"A group discussion on drugs and perception, headed up by Dr. Krue," he summarized aloud, glancing at his colleague, wondering if she was getting the same gut feeling he was. From her expression, she did, and it wasn't good.

"It's nothing conclusive, nothing solid," Emily murmured, catching his glance and nodding slowly, "but it's a piece of the puzzle. So what's the picture we're supposed to be putting together?"

"And where does Krue fit into it?" he added for her ears only, "And why do I feel like that woman knows something we  _need_  to know?"

The brunette shook her head uncertainly, reading over the nearby directory.

"Krue's office is on the third floor," Derek observed, "Want to head up there and talk to her assistant?"

Emily nodded, frowning as they walked into the elevator. She was quiet as the doors closed and the car started going, and Derek knew they were both trying to answer her previous question. They both felt like Krue had something they needed to get out of her, but it was nothing they could pin down and put a name to. Still, they were experienced agents and profilers, and they knew better than to ignore their instincts when they were so clear. If Hotch felt he could trust those instincts, it fell on them to find out what they were trying to tell them. Two hours later, however, they still had little to go on except a vague feeling about Krue and a sense that there was something  _off_  about the whole reason they were here. Krue's assistant hadn't been particularly informative, but the way she had talked about her boss had been telling. She described Krue as extremely intelligent with a knack for reading people and getting ideas and thoughts out of them in discussions that might not have come to light with someone less observant. From Garcia they had found out that the philosopher had gotten a degree in psychology before switching to philosophy midway to her masters, and none of the records could tell them why. As far as the analyst could tell, all Krue's professors had been convinced that the woman would make an excellent clinical psychologist, then the abrupt change of fields had happened. The only piece to that puzzle Garcia had found was a brief mention in Krue's file of a fellow student being asked to leave the program several weeks prior over her strenuous objections. It wasn't a lot to go on, and as the philosophy professor hurried down the hall and unlocked her office, gesturing the two agents in, Derek couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something right in front of his face.

"Please have a seat. I apologize for making you wait so long. Now, what can I do for you?"

Morgan launched into their pre-planned explanation, which he and Emily had discussed and agreed on earlier, simply telling the professor that her name had come up in several interviews as someone familiar with the community and with behavior, and they wanted her input on this case. Krue seemed to accept this, but Derek didn't miss the long, thoughtful look she threw at Emily during his little speech, nor did he fail to notice the way he was being quietly dismissed, even when he was the one doing the talking. The two agents had agreed that they wanted to start out trying to draw attention away from Emily, but if that tack failed they'd have to try something else.

"Well, I'm certainly familiar with a great many of the people who live around here," the philosopher agreed once he'd finished, "but why ask me about this case? I've been interviewed by our local agents several times, as have many others, and they didn't seem to think it necessary to ask any more questions. So what brings your team all the way from Quantico?"

The bemused look on Emily's face told him his colleague was as aware as he was that Krue hadn't actually said or admitted much of anything, other than knowing her neighbors, and instead had turned the interview back around on them. He was willing to bet the local agents had just let her talk around their questions, but he couldn't afford to do the same. The problem, of course, was that she was a philosopher, and in his experience those people rarely answered questions, and usually asked more questions. The Socratic method was all well and good, but annoying when interviewing suspects or potential witnesses.

"Dr. Krue," Emily started, but the professor held up a hand, smiling warmly to take any rudeness out of the interruption.

"Please, Agent Prentiss, Ren. No need to stand on formalities, is there?"

"Emily, then," the brunette shot back, returning the smile, or at least appearing to do so. Derek knew his companion well enough to easily read the reluctance in the expression, and the strain. Krue wasn't actively doing anything they could call her out for, but they both knew Emily was being flirted with, and Emily didn't like it. Morgan caught himself wanting to laugh and stifled the impulse with an effort. Whatever it was Krue wanted, she wouldn't get it from Emily. The woman might not be married in the traditional sense, but she may as well have been with all her devotion to JJ. No one, including the attractive and intelligent Dr. Krue, was going to break through that. What concerned him was how JJ might react to the situation. The blonde had a big possessive streak when it came to Emily, though he wasn't sure she realized it, and along with that came a tendency to become jealous. Most of the time he and Garcia found it funny, or "cute" as the tech goddess was likely to describe it, but right now it wasn't funny. It was dangerous, and he had to do his part to keep this woman from coming between his colleagues in some way. A lot of JJ's possessiveness came from fear, both of herself and of the world around them, and that fear could cause some unpredictable consequences.

"Well then, Emily," Krue was saying, her voice making the name a caress, "ask your questions. I'll answer them if I have answers to give."

Derek carefully kept his expression neutral, but it was difficult. There was so much he wanted to say to the woman, not the least of which was to tell her to back off Emily, but he couldn't and wouldn't. He just had to trust Emily, and by extension JJ, to be professional about this new weirdness. Outwardly at least, it seemed like the weirdness was getting to him more than his beautiful colleague.

"Ren, do you know anyone who may have suffered a recent loss or trauma, and may have had reason to turn to drugs to cope?"

"A trauma or loss? Hmm. Of what sort do you mean? That could describe many events in people's lives."

"Oh, something like a recent divorce or loss of a loved one," Emily countered readily, on to the professor's game and turning it back on her by being unshakable and steady, "Loss of a job, or a demotion of some sort. Even something more subtle, such as a friend moving away or an argument with those close to him or her."

Krue's hazel eyes widened a little at the quick response, but that was her only reaction. Her face took on a thoughtful expression, and to all outward appearances she was considering the answer, but somehow Derek doubted that was all that was going on in that mind.

"Several friends have recently been faced with the disappearances of their loved ones, but I'm sure you're aware of that. After all, you're here. Still, none that I know of have resorted to drugs, legal or otherwise. They still have hope that their loved ones will return safely. Do you really think drugs have something to do with those disappearances?"

"Dr. Krue, as far as the FBI is concerned, these aren't 'disappearances' at all. These are abductions," Morgan corrected carefully, taking his cue, "One partner is incapacitated and painted on while the other is abducted and taken somewhere we have yet to find. This isn't a case of a few people who may have wandered off one day. Someone is taking them somewhere, and for all we know that person is torturing and killing them. It's very important that we identify and locate their kidnapper, and hopefully the victims, as soon as possible."

"Tortured and murdered?" Ren repeated, sounding shocked by the idea, "Do you really think that's what's happening?"

"We don't know," Emily answered softly, "and that's why we're here. Until those people are found, we can't be sure what may or may not be happening to them. Part of our job is to assume the worst, because that's generally what we see. So, if you have any information that might help us locate the victims or their abductor, or any future victims, we'd be grateful if you'd share it."

The woman considered the two agents for a long time, then sighed.

"What kind of people do you see that leads you to make such leaps of logic?"

"Ma'am, we profile, track, and arrest serial killers and other offenders for a living. In our experience assuming the worst while hoping for the best is all we can do," Emily explained, her voice conveying only a fraction of the emotion they all felt toward their job. It took the older woman aback for a moment, and she eyed them both closely.

"It's a sad, wearying job you have, isn't it?"

His patience was running out, but Morgan caught himself before he could say anything too destructive to their cause.

"Do you ever stop asking questions and actually answer them?"

Ren laughed, tilting her head thoughtfully, then sighed softly, shaking her head.

"A philosopher who doesn't ask questions is no philosopher at all, you know. It's what we do. Still, I realize my manner can be frustrating, if not counter-productive in such an investigation. I apologize."

She seemed sincere enough, so he leaned back in his chair, smiling by way of apology for his harshness. Krue was quiet for a long moment, then she sighed again, her voice dropping as if she feared eavesdroppers.

"Agents, what I'm going to tell you puts a dear friend of mine at risk, not because he's likely to be a victim or because he's been threatened, but because if I'm right, he's the reason you're here. Normally I wouldn't believe him capable of it, but just before this all started, his wife left him. Prior to that, they had been considered the happiest couple in town. He's the senior pharmacist at a big pharmacy, and he has access to a wide variety of drugs, psychedelic and otherwise. That wouldn't have meant anything to me either, until the local agents started questioning me about these cases, and they showed me your profile. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I don't have any proof, and until two days ago I had no reason, beyond the profile, to suspect him. And then I got this."

She reached into her desk and pulled out an envelope, handing it over to Emily. The brunette pulled out the note inside and glanced over it, her eyes widening slightly before she got her expression under control and handed the paper over to Derek.

"I'm terribly sorry, Ren. You have been the dearest of friends, and I never meant to cause you any trouble. I stayed far from your home and office in the hopes that the police would leave you be, but to no avail. And then Stan said something, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I realized Joe and Lily had what Amanda and I had. I lost Mandy, you know. I never saw it coming. So I'll show Lily the innocence of her love, the dream, and Joe the nightmare, so they know what they have. I took it for granted. Maybe Joe won't. And if he does., that's okay too. Then he'll learn what I learned. I tried, Ren. I know they're just down the street from you, but there's no choice anymore. I'll have to remember to thank Stan later."

It wasn't signed, but he could easily see what had gotten Emily to react.

"Joseph and Lily Rodrick were the latest victims."

Ren nodded, her hands twining together in the first anxious gesture they'd seen from her.

"And Stan Aransdale is another friend. He and his wife just celebrated their 35th anniversary."

"We need to know who sent this," Emily commanded quietly, the intensity of her tone making up for any lack of volume, "And then you need to tell us why  _you_  are the person he's reaching out to, and why he's so determined to keep trouble away from you."

"Does that-"

"Yes, it does," Emily interrupted firmly, dark eyes boring into Ren's hazel, "It matters because right now, you could be charged with a felony, and I don't want to have to do that. Right now, you can help us, and yourself."

To her credit, Krue didn't ask what felony she could be charged with. She didn't ask anything, in fact. Instead, she reached into her desk again, this time far back into a locked drawer, and brought out a photograph. It was old and a little faded, but clearly cherished. This she handed to Morgan, and this time he was the one to be a little shocked.

"Michael Cooper," Ren explained, gesturing to the picture, "And his daughter, Mariana. And me. That picture was taken over thirty years ago."

"You grew up together."

The professor nodded needlessly, leaning back in her chair as if distancing herself from them.

"Mariana and I were best friends until our junior year of college. Her twin brother was kicked out of the psychology program we were all in for a crime he didn't commit. He was accused of raping another student, and even though he was found innocent, the department kicked him out anyway. The supposed victim was his ex-girlfriend, and the daughter of the department chairman. Mari and Mark ran away a month later, after being assaulted and ostracized all over campus. Michael was devastated, and I helped him through it. Since then I've been sort of a combination confidant and second daughter to him. His wife Amanda and I were close too, but I never did know why she left. All I knew was it had something to do with Mari and Mark."

She took the picture back when Morgan handed it to her, and she stared at it, her fingertips tracing the little brunette's face. Derek hadn't failed to notice how much Mariana looked like a younger version of Emily, but he wasn't about to comment on it.

"You have to understand, agents... Michael is the only family I have left. My own parents died when I was in high school, and I don't have any siblings. I didn't... I couldn't believe that he could do this... And to turn him in..."

Normally this was the kind of time when Emily would reach out to comfort a grieving witness, but she didn't. Her expression was guardedly sympathetic, but the quick glance she threw at him told Derek that something wasn't coming together for her, and he shared that feeling. It was all too pat. She fell apart too easily after all her mind games and obstruction, and here was the case in a neat little package. Still, they had to check out the information, and Morgan got up and left the office to call Garcia, leaving Emily to give their thanks and excuses while still keeping an eye on her through the office window.

"Baby girl, I need you to get us everything you can on a Michael Cooper and his family, and then I need you to look up a Stan Cooper. He's a potential witness, if not a future victim."

While he listened to Garcia's keyboard being abused he watched as Emily rose, shook Ren's hand, then slipped out of the office to join him pinching the bridge of her nose, a sign she was getting a headache.

"She wants me to have dinner with her after the case is done," she explained when she realized he was watching her, and his eyebrows went up.

"She thinks we would have a lot to talk about," she went on, her voice tense with some emotion he couldn't immediately identify, "And she hinted that maybe my 'blonde friend' wouldn't mind her borrowing a little of my time."

"Subtle."

Emily snorted, leaning back against the wall and massaging her neck.

"Garcia getting our info?"

"But of course," Penelope replied from the other end, "Anything for my picture of sugar-lips there in ass-less chaps."

Derek almost dropped his phone, barely managing to field it before Emily grabbed it from him, holding it out once he had gotten himself back under control. Brown-black eyes gave him a look that said  _and this surprises you... Why?_  He shook his head, knowing he should be used to Garcia's antics by now. Somehow the tech kitten still managed to catch him off guard sometimes, and every time he paid for it in seemingly endless teasing from whatever teammates happened to see.

"Garcia, behave!"

The analyst chuckled merrily, and he could hear her singing something he couldn't quite make out but sounded distinctly naughty.

"Just send whatever you get back to the field office, okay?" Emily suggested, obviously trying not to laugh and encourage Garcia to do worse, "I'll ask Hotch to get Rossi and Reid to go check out Aransdale."

Suiting words to actions, she started to walk away, her phone to her ear. Morgan followed, and so was close enough to hear half the conversation.

"Hotch, we got a potential lead out of Krue. She had two names for us. Michael Cooper, who might be our UnSub, and Stan Aransdale, a possible witness or victim. Morgan is having Garcia check them both out and she'll send whatever she gets straight to you. Once she gets Aransdale's info it might be good to have Rossi and Reid go check him out."

There was a long pause, then a break in Emily's stride. It lasted only a moment, but Morgan saw the hesitation, read the sudden concern on her face, and knew something unexpected had come up.

"Alone, Hotch?" she asked softly, her voice conveying none of the momentary fear that had flashed across her eyes, "Once Morgan and I get back, we could-"

Again Emily hesitated, and again her eyes betrayed her.

"No, it's no problem. Of course we will. We'll see you later."

She hung up, turning back to him with an expression so empty of any emotion that he was a little afraid of what Hotch had said.

"Je- JJ is going to go talk to Aransdale. Garcia was already sending the information when I called."

"What about Rossi and Reid?" Derek asked worriedly, starting to put the pieces together.

"They're going to go try to catch Cooper at home. Hotch is worried Krue might tip him off, and wants us to keep an eye on her. He isn't going to send a local agent with her for the same reason. We don't know what they might do or say."

"And what's Hotch going to be doing?"

"What he does best. Keeping everyone else off our backs so we can do our jobs."

The observation was true enough, but the bitterness in it was sharp and harsh.

"Emily..."

He stopped there, not knowing what to say. JJ was more than Emily's partner. He wasn't blind, after all. And the idea of JJ being out there alone, with no one from the BAU and not even a local agent or cop, must be tearing Emily apart, but here she was, when every instinct was probably telling her to be _there_ , with JJ.

"Let's get this done. It'll be fine."

 _It has to be fine_  was what she was really saying. Had Derek known JJ was thinking the same thing at that exact moment, he might have laughed. Jennifer, for her part, didn't find any of this funny. She knew Hotch was doing his job, and she knew he had considered every plausible option before sending her out on her own, but that didn't mean she wasn't afraid. Most of her fear wasn't really for herself, though, but rather for what Emily would be going through when Hotch told her what was going on. Emily had been so adamant about no one being sent out alone, and Hotch had said that as long as there was any other choice, no BAU member would go into the field alone. And here she was, and there her partner was with Morgan and with a woman who obviously had more than a passing interest in her gorgeous colleague and had some connection to this UnSub. The more she thought about it the less she liked the picture she was putting together, so she consciously forced it out of her mind and focused on the drive. Aransdale lived some thirty miles or so outside of town, according to Garcia, but the empty roads made the drive more of a luxury than a burden. She just hoped everything would go so smooth.

"Get in, talk Aransdale and his wife into coming to the field office with me, get back," she mumbled when she arrived, repeating the short version of Hotch's orders. She wasn't here to be their protective detail. She was here to get them, and herself, out of here. Her boss had stressed that fact to the point that it had gotten annoying, and she had cut him off before he could repeat himself again. She knew it was because he cared, and because he worried, but she still hadn't been able to tolerate it anymore. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she strode up the front stairs, admiring the big ranch house with its stained-wood, wraparound deck. The place had a clean look that spoke of good upkeep and housekeeping more than newness, and if she had to guess she'd have placed the construction of the place around the early 1900's, with some more recent additions.

"Been looking at too many remodeling magazines," she grumbled at herself, but couldn't keep from smiling. She was proud of her house and the work she'd done there, and more than that she was proud that Emily saw fit to call it home too.

" _Lucy, I'm home!"_

JJ chuckled under her breath at the memory. Emily had been late coming home from work due to some paperwork issue, and the blonde had been cooking in the kitchen when the front door had opened and Emily had yelled that line in a flawless Cuban accent.

" _Whatever you say, Ricky,"_  she'd called back, _"now get in here and eat before you faint from hunger."_

_Emily strolled into the room, her tired face brightening as she leaned against the kitchen doorway, smiling that sweet smile of hers. Unable to stop herself, Jennifer crossed the small space and pulled Emily into a kiss intended to be short and sweet, and instead left them leaning against the wall and each other, breathing deeply in an attempt to maintain, or regain, control._

" _Welcome home," the liaison murmured, still trying to get a grip on herself but unable to keep from grinning broadly at Emily's easy, contented reply._

" _Glad to be home"_

The blonde sighed, forcing herself to knock on the door and get on with her job. When the door opened under the light pressure from her knuckles, however, all thoughts of her partner, except ensuring that she got back to Emily safely, fled. She slipped her gun and phone out of their respective holsters, bringing the phone to her ear and the gun to the ready.

"Hotch, it's JJ. I'm at Aransdale's, but something's wrong. The front door was left open and from what I can see of the front room, there was some kind of disturbance here. What do you want me to do?"

There was a long pause, and she could just picture Hotch considering and dismissing all kinds of ideas.

"We need to know what happened, JJ, but I don't want you going in alone. Take a look around the premises, try to locate the Aransdale's, but don't go into the house until backup gets here."

She agreed, only able to guess what that conclusion must have cost him, but he wasn't quite done with her yet.

"And JJ... Backup will be there ASAP, but still, walk softly."

In his voice JJ could hear the same thought that had been going through her own mind:  _Emily will never forgive me if something happens._  She put her phone away and eased her way across the deck, keeping her body as much in the shadows as possible and, as her boss had advised, walking as softly as she could. This all felt creepy, and more than that it felt like a trap. Worse, she had no idea who the intended mouse was, or if the cat was just waiting for her to walk into its mouth. A creak on the deck made her swing in that direction, only to find her mouth and nosed being covered by a damp cloth that smelled sickly sweet, then she felt nothing but a distant sense of falling endlessly.

'Damn it,' she swore softly, 'Emily is gonna kill me.'

*****************

**Date and Time: March 25, 19:02**

**Location: Home of Stanley and Theresa Aransdale**

"I got here as fast as I could," Rossi growled into the phone, "but I can't find any sign of her, Hotch, except the SUV she drove out here. There isn't any sign of the residents, either. They're just... Gone."

Even though Aaron wasn't the type to groan, this time he did, and in that groan Rossi heard an echo of his own thoughts.

"Prentiss is going to kill us," he remarked, and Hotch made a soft noise of assent.

"Krue must have tipped Cooper off while they were talking to me and Garcia. That's the only opportunity she would have had. Morgan and Prentiss have been with her full time otherwise. I'll have them bring her in for questioning. In the meantime, you have until full dark to search the house and the property, then I want you back here. We need to know where he's taking his victims, what he's doing to them, and how we're going to get JJ back before..."

Dave didn't need the Unit Chief to finish that thought. He knew what Aaron was thinking, and he didn't like it. They had nearly lost too many of their teammates already, and if they lost Jareau they'd lose Prentiss. He had no doubts when it came to that.

"We'll find her, Hotch."

His one-time protege disappeared from the other end of the line, and David put the device away, running a hand through his graying hair as he looked around. They had dogs and agents crawling all over the place, but still there was no sign of their missing agent, and finally he was forced to admit that there was nothing more he could do that night. Despite bracing himself the entire drive back, he was still taken aback by the flames in Emily's dark eyes as he walked into the office set aside for the BAU.

"Nothing?" she rumbled, and he nodded, wishing he knew what he could offer her by way of reassurance. There really wasn't anything, in the end. He didn't know if JJ was okay or not, and he couldn't make any promises other than the one she knew already. With a shrug that might have looked nonchalant to a non-profiler, Emily rose and paced to the white board, apparently studying it, but he knew better. Prentiss was miles away, wherever her blonde partner was being held.

"Krue let anything slip?"

"I don't know. Morgan's been grilling her since we got back, and Hotch and I were going over the geographical profile with Reid."

"She's back to mind games," Morgan remarked as he slipped into the room, "And she's got the locals thinking we're crazy, and that JJ just... Wandered off."

Prentiss turned a little too sharply, her anger just a little too hot, and Rossi stepped between her and the still open door. The last thing they needed was for one of the BAU agents to go flying off the handle, and Emily was just too close.

"Which we all know isn't true," he pointed out firmly, keeping the dark woman in place with the force of his stare and voice alone, "So we all need to stay calm and keep our heads clear. We need to figure this out. Mind games won't work on us, right Prentiss?"

She took a long, deep breath, brown-black eyes staring fixedly on a blank stretch of wall before slowly letting it go, leaving her looking drained but calm.

"Right, sir."

"Good. Now, let's solve this case and get Agent Jareau back, shall we?"

The three agents settled around the table, Morgan with interview notes written by Reid, Prentiss with the maps she and Hotch had been going over when he'd left, and Rossi with his notebook and his memories of the house. Over the next several hours the profilers debated back and forth, discussing possible locations and strategies. Reid and Hotch joined them at some point, and the map slowly got filled in piece by piece as parts of town and the outlying areas were discussed and dismissed. Dave was about to give in to frustration and get up for coffee when Morgan suddenly froze mid-stretch. Before Rossi could figure out what his problem was, the former athlete practically ripped the map in his haste to grab it, as well as a file laying under it.

"I think I know why we can't find her," he declared, sounding enthusiastic for the first time in hours, "Every other time, he's taken one part of a pair, right?"

They nodded, every agent waiting to be let in on Morgan's epiphany.

"If that's the case, it may be that grabbing JJ was either an accident or something he wasn't really prepared for if Krue called him in the short time we were out of the office. And why would Krue, who only met JJ the one time, want her to be grabbed anyway?"

"Well, she obviously likes playing mind games. She might have done it just to mess with us," Reid remarked, but Morgan was shaking her head.

"That's not all of it. When she met JJ, she was openly hostile toward her. She took one look at JJ and immediately hated her? Why? JJ was a little curt with her, but she didn't do anything overt. So why the hostility?"

Making a sound of approval as he found what he was looking for, Morgan dug through the file they had assembled from the information Garcia had sent them until he pulled out a photograph of a blonde in her twenties, a blonde who bore a passing resemblance to JJ, though the girl in the photo had darker hair and skin, and eyes that were more of a sea blue than JJ's.

"Mark Cooper's accuser, Jessi Flanders. By all accounts she was a party girl, prone to reckless, selfish behavior and lying. Her father's position protected her, though, and caused Cooper's son to be kicked out of his degree program."

"Krue said... Cooper's wife left because of something to do with Mark and Mariana's disappearance," Emily murmured, staring at the photograph, "What if she blamed Flanders for the destruction of her surrogate family and Michael Cooper's downward spiral? Could she have... Could she have transferred all that onto JJ somehow?"

"It's entirely possible," Reid chimed in, leaning so far forward his chair threatened to roll out from under him, "It wouldn't be the first time a tense situation or traumatic event brought previously unknown pathologies to light. Freud would have argued that it was an unconscious conflict brought on by an imbalance in the-"

"So maybe she had a deeply buried, burning hatred of blue-eyed blondes," Rossi interrupted smoothly, "And maybe our arrival, or Cooper's letter, or both, or something else entirely, brought it to the surface. So let's say she fixed that hatred on JJ, and sent her father, crazed with loss and drugs, to go after JJ. Or maybe he was going after Aransdale and JJ just happened to be there. Either way, Krue is who we have and she's our shortest route into Cooper's head. So how do we use this?"

"I have an idea," Prentiss commented, her voice cold and her face devoid of all emotion except a smile Dave could only call vicious. As she outlined her plan, David glanced at Hotch, silently asking for his opinion. Aaron shrugged, his haggard face a touch uncertain, but determined nonetheless. The plan was a good one, they knew, but it depended on Prentiss keeping herself on a very tight leash with the woman who may have helped kidnap her partner. They both knew she was a damn good agent, but JJ was her achilles heel.

"Prentiss, can you do this?" Hotch queried, once again the Unit Chief and not the uncertain father-figure of this strange family Rossi found himself a part of.

"If it means finding her," the brunette replied fiercely, "I'll find Archimedes, his damn lever, a place to stand, and if needed I'll get out and push."

Despite being visibly taken aback, Hotch nodded, and Emily left, her shoulders straight and her expression a mask of calm so convincing the profilers were all startled.

"Archimedes, a lever and what?" Morgan asked, confused. Before Reid could explain, Hotch waved his hand.

"Archimedes is quoted as saying, 'Give me a place to stand and a lever long enough and I'll move the world.'"

"Apparently philosophy is rubbing off on Agent Prentiss," the Italian observed wryly, but inwardly he was feeling rather sorry for Catherine Krue. With a nod toward Hotch the two older men got up, leaving their younger colleagues to work with what they had while Prentiss worked Krue. They stood in the observation room, silently watching as she first charmed the professor into relaxation, then, with little more than a smile and a calculated toss of a photo, had Krue talking about the college incident. The venom in the philosopher's voice when she talked about Flanders was unmistakable, and Emily's sympathetic tone had Krue bending their ears on the evils of a girl she'd known only briefly some twenty years earlier.

"They're all like that, you know," the philosopher declared, and Emily pretended confusion with such accuracy that had Hotch and Rossi not known her so well, they might have fallen for it too.

"She missed her true calling," Rossi muttered, "She should have been an actress."

"I'm just glad she's on our side," Derek agreed, slipping into the room and silently closing the door behind him, "If I didn't know better I'd think she actually believed what she was saying."

Hotch waved for silence as Krue spoke again, her expression twisting darkly.

"Them. The pretty blonde athletes. They're all so  _special_ , so  _perfect_. That one you were with is like that too. She's just going to stab you in the back in the end. That's all they ever do. All they're good at. They lie, cheat, and steal, then they spit in your face and put a knife in your back. And there she is, so pretty, so perfect, and she things she has you all wrapped around her little finger, but you know, don't you? You know what she really is. A praying mantis who can't wait to chop your head clean off for her own pleasure."

There was a dangerous moment as Prentiss tensed, her expression unreadable, then she reached across the table and patted Ren's hand.

"Don't worry, I know exactly what she's up to. I've always known. I've just been waiting for my chance, you know? Like you."

"Exactly!" Krue agreed, grabbing Emily's hand in a grip that looked painful in her enthusiasm, "I finally got my chance when your  _friend_  showed up. And poor Michael lost everything because of one just like her.  _I_  lost everything to her! So I told him that he was right, that Stan and Theresa needed to be taught, like all the others, and then I told him that Jessi would be there too, and that maybe he should keep her somewhere safe until she could tell us what she did with Mark and Mari."

"What she did with them?"

"She chased them away," the professor hissed, "She taunted them and sent her little posse after them, and I couldn't stop them all. So she chased them away."

"JJ? Or Jessi?"

"Jessi! They're all Jessi! Can't you see that?!"

Prentiss remained remarkably calm considering the fanatical madness in her subject's eyes.

"But what about Stan and Theresa? They're not Jessi. They haven't done anything to you or Michael. So why should they have to pay?"

Krue looked momentarily confused, then shook her head.

"They... They shouldn't. Stan and Theresa have always been good to me and Michael. But Michael... All he can see is his little mission now. He wants them all to see what he didn't see, but there's nothing there. There's nothing for them to see except an old man who's high as a kite and off his rocker. I asked him where he was putting all those people, you know. He said he had them stored, and that even if he could only take Theresa with him, he'd make sure Stan and Jessi were safely put away until we had time to talk to them."

"Could only take-" Prentiss repeated slowly, then rose, giving Ren one of her most reassuring smiles, "I'm going to get some coffee. You must be tired too. I'll be right back."

She joined them in the observation room as Rossi was taking out his phone to call Garcia.

"I need blueprints of the Aransdale house," he ordered rapidly, "We have reason to believe that JJ might still be in the house, but we tore the place apart looking for her already, I need to know if there's some little space Cooper might have hidden her in, someplace that we wouldn't be able to see without knowing it was there."

"Can do, Sir Beardsley! It'll be flying to you faster than a cat with a squirrel complex."

He blinked slowly, staring at the device.

"Cat with a..."

"Don't ask," Aaron suggested bemusedly, "It's much safer that way. Anyway... It looks like Aransdale and JJ might still be in the house. That doesn't answer the question of where he might have taken the other ten."

"Actually, maybe it does," Emily corrected, pushing dark hair out of her face, "Krue said he was "storing them" where they could "see". Do we know if any of those couples had some sort of storage locker or something other than a safe deposit at the bank where they may have stored their old things, old memories?"

"Actually, I think I saw a mention of something like that in the first couple's file, the Jerbas couple," Dave commented thoughtfully, "And the Victors might have had one too. It'd be in their files, wouldn't it?"

Leaving a local agent to babysit Krue, the profilers went back to their little office and each took a pair of files, all searching for the same thing. As he'd expected, Rossi found mention of public storage lockers under the assets of both the Victor and Jerbas families.

"The Leroy's and the Ryan's had lockers at the local public storage place," Morgan read, and Reid nodded, pointing out where in the file it said the fifth and sixth couples, the Thomas's and the Bickers, had storage there as well.

"I've got a definite on the Martinez' couple," Prentiss stated, shaking her head as she looked through the other file she held, "But nothing on the Whitely's. Hotch?"

"Nothing in either one."

"But still, seven out of ten have lockers in the same storage facility? That can't be a coincidence."

"And neither can this," Reid added, coming back from an unnoticed trip to the printer. He laid out the blueprint copy Garcia had sent them. At first Rossi couldn't see what he was talking about, but then spotted something that didn't make any sense when placed against his mental map of the place.

"This space here," he pointed, "This wasn't there. Or it was, but it was inaccessible. I do remember thinking that the shape of the rooms there was strange, like something was missing, but..."

"The blueprints show there should be a doorway into that space. It's marked as storage. Could the Aransdale's painted or built over it during their remodeling?" Morgan asked, "I've done that more than once with my properties. They might have completely forgotten about it."

"But if it was built over, we would have seen the damage."

"But not if it was just painted over. This space looks like it was originally supposed to be part of a larger closet or something. It would have been easy to miss it during a search."

Rossi felt a little better at that, but the idea that he could have missed something so vital bothered him anyway. Putting self-punishment aside for the moment, however, he focused instead on a plan of attack.

"I think we need to go after this storage facility and the Aransdale house at the same time," he concluded aloud, "That way we should get everyone at once, rather than risking missing one or the other. Also, if Cooper is going to be in either place, it'll be at the storage building. He has to "teach" them some kind of lesson, right?"

"You're right," Hotch decided, nodding slowly as he sorted through the various possibilities, "We'll separate into two teams, with the sheriff taking some of his deputies to Cooper's home, just in case. Dave, you and Prentiss will go to the house while Morgan, Reid and I will go to the storage building. We'll both take some of the local agents for support, and so they can see there's actually something going on."

Before anyone could start getting ready, the Unit Chief held up his hands, fixing them all with that hawk-like stare.

"We'll go at dawn. Until then, I want everyone to go back to the hotel and sleep. We're all exhausted, and tired people make mistakes."

Prentiss looked rebellious, but to Rossi's surprise she said nothing, though her black glare was comment enough. Still, she got up with the rest of the team and loaded herself into the SUV with him and Morgan without a word. The drive to the hotel was disconcertingly silent, but worse to Rossi's thinking was the silence in the next room. Emily made no noise, no bedsprings creaking, no water flowing, nothing. There was only silence.

*************

**Date and Time: March 26, 2008, Time Unknown**

**Location: Home of Stanley and Theresa Aransdale**

"Mr. and Mrs. Aransdale, we're with the FBI! Call out if you can hear us!"

This wasn't the first time the occupants of the house had heard that call, but bound as they were there was no way they could reply. Next to the balding, retired homeowner JJ was almost tempted to roll her eyes at the ineffectual efforts of the local FBI squad. Unable to summon up the will to be annoyed, she gave her companion as reassuring a look as the gag would allow, since it wouldn't do to have the poor man upset now, when help was coming. Still, she couldn't help but wonder just how the team was going to find them. They had been subdued and hidden with surprising skill considering their attacker had been a partially blind 65 year-old man in poor health.

"Mr. And Mrs. Aransdale? Agent Jareau?!" another voice called, and this one made JJ sit up straighter. She felt herself smiling despite the gag and her general soreness. She knew that voice, and it was close, and getting closer.

"Check here," that voice commanded, overriding an objection that the area had already been searched from a man the liaison didn't know by voice. There was a moment of silence, then that familiar, comforting voice sounded again.

"Give me that, then, and move."

Something in the other's tone, a harsh note of both command and dismissal that made Jennifer want to laugh. Emily Prentiss was many things, but she was not a woman to cross or obstruct. She heard a harsh wrenching noise, a grunt of mixed exertion and annoyance, then a quiet growl. She knew that sound, and as best she could JJ moved rapidly back, grateful she had done so when the boards of the door to the hiding place she and Aransdale had been stuffed into burst inward. Even without seeing it she could picture the powerful grace of her partner's body as she kicked the concealed door in. The woman herself appeared, carrying a flashlight and shoving the wreckage of the wood out of her way, her brown-black eyes burning as they met JJ's blue. Obviously shunning the offered help of one of the local FBI agents she crossed the small space, barely more than a large extension to the closet, and began working Aransdale's bonds loose, then Jennifer's. The blonde knew why Emily had gone to her second, and it made her grin widen. The hands untying her were shaking as they touched her, and the profiler's face when she got a closer look was tense with anger and fear, and more than a little exhaustion. Aransdale lumbered out under his own power, looking a little dazed and sore but otherwise none the worse for the stay in the little room, leaving the two women alone. Almost immediately the liaison had all but forgotten about the man she'd been sent to interview, focusing all her attention on the other agent.

"What are you grinning at?" Emily asked somewhat sharply when she caught sight of her partner's goofy expression, and JJ couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, hugging the older woman tightly. Obviously confused and startled the profiler wrapped her arms around her, and JJ sighed contentedly.

"You're hot when you get all butch," she observed, almost giggling at the inanity of her comment, regardless of its truth. More obviously worried now, strong hands ran over her body, and she couldn't hold back the giggles when the light touch tickled in places, but the giggles faded rapidly. Her skin was extremely sensitive, and the nearness of her partner was wreaking havoc with her already tenuous ability to concentrate.

"You've been drugged," Emily concluded abruptly, ducking away slightly when the blonde tried to kiss her, making JJ pout. The older agent's expression was contrite, though, so Jennifer forgave her. The rational part of her brain agreed that yes, she had been drugged. She knew that the man who had locked her and Aransdale in the space she stood in now couldn't have taken control of them any other way. Unfortunately for Emily, rationality wasn't really high on her mental list of priorities. Apparently of their own accord her hands slid around to her companion's front, pushing away the bulletproof vest and smoothing her rose-colored v-neck with perhaps a little more attention than necessary, smiling wickedly when Emily jumped, belatedly catching her hands.

"Jennifer, sweetheart... What did Cooper give you?"

"Cooper?" she asked blankly. The face of the man who had locked her and Stan in here swam into her mind, but she found herself distracted by the way Emily's shirt tightened across her body under the open jacket and half-open vest when she twisted to glance at the source of a noise outside the little room. She felt a low, approving hum form in her throat and leaned almost limply against her partner, nuzzling her neck. Again Emily jumped at the unexpected contact, but some protective instinct had caused the brunette to release JJ's hands and reach to steady her drugged colleague.

"Let's get out of here," the liaison murmured, sliding her freed hands under the brunette's FBI jacket, seeking the familiar, pleasant softness of skin, "I feel fine, really."

"I'm sure you do," Emily replied a touch breathlessly, not quite pushing the other woman away but definitely struggling to gain control of the situation, "but you've been drugged, Jennifer. We need to get you checked out."

"You can check me out," JJ murmured contentedly, the pleasant haze she found herself floating in too thick for her more rational and irritatingly fearful side to cut in, "I'd enjoy that."

"Whoa boy," she heard her partner mutter under her breath, then add more loudly "This stuff is hitting you pretty hard, isn't it?"

"Doesn't mean it's not true," she objected mildly, unable to summon more than token irritation at the implication that her behavior was entirely caused by the drug making its way through her system. Even her rational side knew better, but that didn't mean said rational side was in agreement with what she was doing.

"Come on, Em," she urged gently, looking up into concerned, shaken eyes with a pleading cast to her own, "Let's just go back to the hotel, or home. I'm fine, really. I'm good."

An arched eyebrow told her the older woman didn't exactly believe her, and she frowned a little. It was suddenly very important to her that she get Emily alone, preferably without so many clothes. This wasn't the first time she'd had such thoughts, but it was the first time she'd felt so intensely compelled to act on them. She felt warm with Emily, grounded as she hadn't been without the beautiful brunette. Aransdale had been friendly enough, but the gags had made conversation impossible, and even so he hadn't been her beloved Emily. If anything, the drug seemed to have enhanced her longing for the other woman, and she had filled the as yet indeterminate amount of time she'd been sitting in this little room with her favorite images of her partner. She hadn't been afraid, she noted absently. It had simply never occurred to her that Emily wouldn't find her. Even the more rational, cynical side had admitted that.

"Mmm... Please, Em? I've missed you."

The arms around her tightened, and although her body was a little over-warm, she welcomed the warmth that flooded her body at the increased contact.

"I missed you too, Jennifer. I was so worried when you and Aransdale disappeared. Thank God Reid and Morgan figured out where Cooper was going, and Rossi thought to get the blueprints for the house."

JJ nodded absently, acknowledging the flood of words without really processing them. It was enough for her that Emily was here, touching her, talking to her. Understanding would come later, she knew, and her more rational side knew that with understanding would come the inevitable side effects of the drug, but that didn't matter now.

"Agent Prentiss?" another familiar voice called, distracting JJ from the dreamy, comfortable sea she was drowning in. The same thread of mild annoyance that had reached her while the FBI agents searched the house managed to make itself felt as Emily turned in response to the call, though without quite letting go of the blonde. She didn't want Em to move, unless it was toward a bed or something else that was soft and cool and involved being very close to Jennifer.

"How's Aransdale?" the profiler called back to Rossi, who stood just outside the little room. The part of the liaison's mind capable of informed, rational thought noticed that he was blocking both access and view of the two female agents, his stocky form and Stan's larger body effectively keeping the locals from getting a glimpse of what must look like a decidedly odd scene.

"He should be fine with some rest and medical attention," the Italian replied, sounding incredibly calm considering Aransdale kept trying to hug and touch him, though not at all with the same intentions JJ knew herself to have for her chosen touchstone, "How's Agent Jareau?"

"She's..."

Emily trailed off, sounding a little uncertain. Inwardly laughing, the blonde thought up words that might fill the space.  _Amorous_  was one that came to mind immediately, and she giggled. Her companion glanced down at her, then sighed almost silently.

"She's unharmed, sir. We should get both of them che- uh... examined. By a doctor."

Jennifer laughed lowly, catching both the hesitation and the change in emphasis.

" _You_  could examine me," she remarked almost innocently, "Make sure Cooper didn't hurt me or anything. I don't really remember how I got here. You could do a very detailed examination. I wouldn't mind, I promise."

That last was true, but she doubted Cooper had hurt either of them. That hadn't been his goal, though it would take too much effort to sort through her hazy memories to determine just what his goal had been. Instead she let her mind fill with images of what she would do with Emily if she could just get the woman somewhere more comfortable. She didn't even especially care if they were alone or not. Over-heated as she was, the warmth of Emily's body still pulled her, and she sighed softly, falling into the older woman's embrace with abandon.

"'Mly," she murmured, slurring the name a little on accident and smiling in appreciation of the way it sounded, "My 'Mly... Please. I just wanna be with you. I know you wanna be with me. So come on... Let's get somewhere comfortable."

Emily shivered, then gasped as her partner's hands slid under her pink shirt again, this time very deliberately brushing her breasts. The brunette grabbed at her hands again, but JJ just laughed softly, kissing her companion's neck with far more focus and intent than even she had thought herself capable of in her current state. Emily, her beautiful Emily, was all she knew, all she wanted, and the woman was right there. She just had to persuade her partner to see things that way too.

"Rossi, could you do me a favor and clear the house? I'd like to bring Agent Jareau out separately. She's a little... Out of sorts. I think it would be better if she's not exposed to too many people all at once."

In an abstracted way Jennifer was rather proud of the profiler for her control over voice and body, but she couldn't stop herself from giggling softly. Emily sighed, half-pulling, half-carrying the younger woman over to one wall, as out of sight of the door as it was possible to be in the small space. Before JJ could take advantage of the new situation, however, she felt a sharp pain she couldn't quite place, then the world went dark. Emily caught her partner as she fell, sighing tiredly and more than a little regretfully. Resisting Jennifer's advances had been incredibly hard, even more so than she had thought it would be once she realized what was going on. It had taken all her self-restraint, and more than a few forceful reminders that the gorgeous blonde was drugged and not herself. Otherwise there was no way she could have stood that long. She still wasn't sure she could have lasted the way things were going.

"Agent Prentiss?"

"I'm here, Agent Rossi," she replied tiredly, draping her beloved's arm across her shoulders and straightening her vest as best she could, "We're coming. Is the house clear?"

"Yes," he assured her gently, and as she slid out of the small "room", barely managing to keep Jennifer's weight balanced, he was there to help, taking some of the weight on his own shoulders. She smiled gratefully, though there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind resenting the fact she couldn't do this herself, and another resenting herself for not giving in to the urging of her partner and her body. She shoved both away with an internal growl. Rossi helped her get JJ into the back of their SUV, since the ambulance had already left with Aransdale. There was a silent agreement between the two that the best way to deal with the situation was to keep it as private as possible. They both knew Emily wouldn't and couldn't just leave her partner now that she'd been found, but they also knew, though the brunette preferred not to think of  _why_ her colleague knew, that Jennifer's behavior couldn't be predicted or trusted while the drug was in her system.

"'Mly," JJ murmured as the older agent settled herself against her fair companion, wrapping an arm and a seatbelt around her. The blonde was still unconscious, for which Emily was grateful, but even in her sleep the liaison was feeling decidedly amorous. Her hands and lips were, if anything, more free with the taller body than they had been when JJ had been conscious.

"You all right, Prentiss?" Dave asked from the front, pointedly  _not_  looking in the rearview mirror to see what had caused a distinctly strained squeak from his usually dignified colleague.

"Yes sir."

She was lying, and they both knew it. She couldn't easily restrain the hands that were making free with her person and also avoid the lips doing the same, but if she didn't...

"Oh God..." she whispered when the blonde's hand got a little too low, "Jennifer..."

Emily groaned softly, feeling herself shivering.

"Rossi... How much longer?" she queried a little desperately, silently thanking and cursing the fact she'd worn thick cotton slacks rather than something thinner, despite the heat of the Texas weather. The predawn chill had made her choice for her, and the sun's heat had yet to make itself known. Even so, she was entirely too warm.

"Almost there, Prentiss," the senior agent replied, and she could hear the concern and amusement in his voice as he added, "She waking up?"

"Not exactly," she replied softly, hearing the groan in her own voice as JJ moved against her, obviously still unconscious and just as obviously seeing something that, in another time, place, and situation, Emily might have killed to be a part of. Right now, though, she demanded self-control and restraint of herself that she didn't know she was capable of, and still wasn't sure she had in her. Had Jennifer not been drugged, she wondered, would the blonde ever let herself be this out of control? It didn't seem likely, and the pain of that thought sobered her, distracting her from her body. And what if she didn't? What if the liaison never let herself go? What if Emily never did?

"Agent Prentiss?"

The profiler looked up, and Rossi's startled expression told her how vulnerable she must look. Emily shook herself, opening the door and pulling JJ out with her, into a wheelchair Rossi had commandeered. She had no idea how long they'd been stopped, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. What was more surprising was how intense the fear and pain must have been to distract her from the way Jennifer was currently nuzzling her neck. She sighed, easing her partner into the wheelchair despite her sleepy protest as she was separated from the brunette. The effects of the drug had left the liaison malleable, which of course had been the point, but it didn't make Emily feel any better. Between her own exhaustion and active imagination, and Jennifer's prompting, her mind and body were at war with each other, but the one thing she was sure of was she could not and would not take advantage of what Cooper had done to her beloved Jennifer.

"She's going to need a full tox screen," she explained to the doctor once JJ had been checked in, "Our UnSub doped her with some kind of amphetamine, we think, but we don't know exactly what yet. It's making her act pretty strangely, though, and I had to sedate her. The paramedics said the stuff they gave me was safe enough, but I want to be sure."

The stolid, white-coated figured nodded and left to put in the orders, and Emily had already forgotten his face as she turned back to Rossi and Jennifer.

"I heard from Hotch while you were getting her checked in," the Italian explained quietly, "We were right. All ten victims were at the storage facility. All alive, though some of them were pretty beat up. Apparently they weren't absorbing the "lesson". Hotch also said both Cooper and Krue have been taken into custody, and they'll be put into a facility for care and treatment."

Emily nodded slowly, accepting that. Cooper and Ren had been more tragic than anything else, and even with what had happened to JJ, she couldn't convince herself that they belonged in jail. They had committed crimes, yes, but they had been driven by some underlying fracture of the psyche, not by truly violent impulses. Of course, she was also aware that if something they had done were to permanently impact Jennifer, she might not be so understanding.

"Then all we can do is wait, for now. It sounds like everything is being taken care of."

Rossi nodded, giving her a long look. For a moment it looked like he might say something, then he changed his mind, nodded, and left them alone. Emily, for her part, waited and watched until a tech came in to draw blood, then leaned her head against the wall, ignoring the awkward angle in favor of having a good view of her partner. Some time later, Jennifer slowly became aware of herself and her surroundings, her mind absently observing that it was more like she was slipping back into her body from some bizarre journey than waking up. There was no real distinction between the two states, so subtle was the transition between them. Even fully conscious she remained aware of a warm haze surrounding her, and at first she expected her thinking to be hazy as well. As she fell more into her body and mind, however, she realized the opposite was true. Her thoughts were acutely, almost painfully, clear, and she turned her head slowly, taking in the long, lean form she had known would be seated at her side. Emily was asleep, her head resting against the wall at an angle that would leave a nasty knot in her neck later. One hand rested on the bed, not far from JJ's face, as if the older woman hadn't been able to tolerate being as far away as that chair. The blonde sighed, shifting cautiously to rest her own hand against the long, elegant limb. She winced a little at the effort involved, not so much because she was physically unable to move, but because her body, like her mind, was acutely attuned to everything. The rasp of the soft sheets against her skin bordered on painful, and even the longed-for contact with Emily's soft skin was almost too much. Her nerves hummed, and the liaison was quietly grateful for the silence of the room. Had she been met with sound and light and sensation beyond this quiet, peaceful scene, she might have had to scream.

"Emily."

Her own voice made her cringe, as did the rustling of cloth and the creak of abused joints as Emily straightened. The sharp, pained hiss the profiler released as she moved vibrated up Jennifer's nerves, and she flinched a little. The brunette's dark eyes softened as they fell on her, and the other agent stilled, smiling in an attempt to mask her concern and fear.

"The doctors warned me you'd be sensitive when you woke up," Emily explained in a deliberately smooth, gentle voice that managed to surround them without overwhelming the blonde, "Like all your senses were stuck in overdrive. They said the effect would wear off gradually."

The succinct statement told her that her partner had gotten a good deal of information on her condition from the aforementioned doctors, and Jennifer spared them a grateful thought while at the same time cursing the cause of her current condition. Her ire didn't last long, however, since she just didn't have the energy or will to sustain it. Instead she turned her too-sharp focus on her companion, taking in the lines of weariness and fear that marred the beautiful face and the soft curve of a relieved smile Emily didn't seem aware she was wearing. JJ found herself needing to touch that face, trace the shape of that smile and reached out, trying to ignore the flood of sensation as the silk sleepwear she found herself in brushed against over-sensitive skin and the crack of her elbow as the stiff joint was stretched out. Mercifully, the other woman didn't stop her approach, instead letting the blonde do as she would.

"Emily..."

The word came out as a sigh, and when she finally made contact with her beloved's face it was more of a whisper than a touch, but it was just what she needed.

"God...  _Emily..._ "

The brunette's face slowly turned, soft lips pressing the faintest of kisses to the palm of her hand.

"I'm here, Jennifer."

It wasn't enough. It was too much.

"I need  _you_."

The words came without thought, without any sense of purpose behind them, but at the same time they were the single truth of her existence in that moment. All of her senses, all of her too-focused mind, bent toward the other woman, and Emily, her Emily, slowly leaned forward. On one level JJ was acutely, painfully aware of the protests of the brunette's stiff, abused body, but on another all she knew was the exact shade of brown making up Emily's eyes, the transition from black to brown and back of her hair, the curve of her lips and angles of her cheeks. Her fingertips traced those curves and angles, traced the mahogany highlights in the raven strands, stilling only when Emily's lips met hers for the barest of seconds, and even then the contact was almost too much to bear.

"Jennifer,  _mia speranza, mia amore..._ "

The sound was like a cold breeze floating by her ear, too sharp but too perfect to turn away from.

"Kiss me."

Again Emily's lips brushed her own in a touch so fleeting it barely existed, and again Jennifer's senses could barely stand it and demanded more all at once.

" _Emily_..."

The dark woman sighed softly and leaned in again, this time staying until JJ had no choice but to pull away or risk being driven mad by her overloaded mind and body.

"Is this a dream?"

Her companion laughed, a slow, deep rumble of sound that might have hurt, but she was too distracted by the thrill it gave to feel pain.

"If it is, I don't want to wake up. Living with you... Being with you... It's a dream come true. But sometimes, I wish..."

She cut herself off, her pale skin flushing darkly. The blonde frowned, ignoring the near-pain of movement so she could reach out, cupping her partner's soft cheek. For a moment she was distracted from her purpose by the sheer intensity of such simple contact, but she shook herself free and turned all of her too-keen focus on her companion.

"What do you wish, Emily?" she pressed, knowing that the clarity and fearlessness of her current state wouldn't last. Once it faded she'd be back in the dark, unable to see the light and shadows Emily's face was showing her now, unable to see the pain written in the lines of her face, the longing in the brown of her eyes. Emily was lonely, she realized, and more than that she was afraid, and JJ had caused it.

"Jennifer, I-"

"What do you wish?" she repeated softly, more urgently. Emily had been about to brush it off, to tell her it was okay, but she could  _see_ , and what she saw was not okay.

"I... I just want... I just want to be with you, Jennifer."

JJ could have taken the statement at face value, but she didn't. Her heightened awareness of her partner refused to let her ignore the tension that vibrated through the lean body and the tears forming in those dark, haunted eyes.

"What do you wish?" she repeated again, forcing back a hiss of near-pain as she started to sit up, pulling Emily toward her. Soft as her sleepwear was, it rasped against her skin like nails on a blackboard, but she couldn't be distracted. Somehow she had missed this before, had missed this pain and loneliness. How, she didn't know, as it was so clear now, but that didn't matter. She could see it now.

"Is this what it's going to take, Jennifer?" Emily finally whispered, sad, unsure brown eyes searching blue, "When we found you, you were so... Loose. Drugged. Uninhibited... I've never seen you so out of control, and so  _wanting_. And it was hard to say no, harder than I thought possible, because I  _want_ you to want me like that. I want to come home sometimes and barely be able to get in the door before..."

The dark woman trailed off, but JJ knew where the thought had been going. It wasn't a new idea, she knew, but it was the first time she'd heard it from Emily and not herself.

"Sometimes, just sometimes, I want hard and out of control. We spend all our time  _in_  control. We have to, it's the job, but does it ever stop? Is it never going to be okay to just... And I..."

Again Emily cut herself short, and again the blonde understood what she wasn't saying. The profiler shook her head, finally getting to the question that was clearly the source of her turmoil and pain.

"Is it even possible? What if the only times we can really talk, or be so out of control, are times like this, when one or both of us is drugged or doped up on painkillers or recovering from a head injury because some UnSub beat the crap out of us with a two by four or-"

The liaison couldn't take it anymore. The fear and frustration surrounding her beloved was so intense it was almost tangible, and JJ felt it like a tidal wave. Ignoring all sensation except one, she cupped her partner's face and pulled her into a long, loving kiss to cut off the flow of words and pain. She didn't need to be drugged to realize that Emily had been pushed to the brink by exhaustion and the bizarre situation. If she concentrated she could vaguely remember the way she had pushed when the beautiful profiler had found her, touching Emily everywhere she could reach and only knowing she wanted more. She had wanted  _everything_ , and she still did. She always did, but she never acted on that desire, or if she did it was in short bursts that left them both wanting more but unable to follow through. It was usually Emily who spoke up, who gave her the choice to back off, and she had always taken that route with hardly a thought for the cost to the other woman.

"I've been so selfish, Emily," she murmured, cutting off any objections with swift kiss, "I ask you for so much, and sometimes I forget that you aren't invincible. Even with all your scars, even knowing you like I do, I still forget, and I'm sorry for that. And right now you're probably wishing you hadn't said anything, that you were selfish to bring this up. And you're wrong. These are things I have to know, sweetheart. And I want you to feel like you can bring them up when I'm not drugged."

By the end of her small speech the liaison's ears were ringing with sound and lights danced across her eyes, forcing her to close them against the real light of the room.

"Jennifer?"

"Damn it," the blonde swore softly, and reached out blindly, suddenly needing an anchor as her world spun. Strong, elegant hands caught her and pulled her close, holding her against the storm of sound and light.

"The drugs are working their way out of your system," a very quiet, very smooth voice murmured from somewhere near her ear, "but you're going to get some overload before they do. You probably shouldn't have sat up so soon."

Despite the tidal waves crashing around inside her skull, JJ could hear the regret in her protector's voice. Shaking her head, she burrowed into the gentle strength of Emily's body, finding as she had before that the nearly overwhelming pleasure of contact with her beloved was preferable to the very overwhelming chaos of the larger world.

"Hold on, love. Just hold on."

If she hadn't been losing herself in sensation, Jennifer would have laughed. Holding on was exactly what she was going to do. Letting go of Emily wasn't an option.


	13. Patience

  
**_Patience_ : **The capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering

**Date and Time: May 1, 2008, 20:58**

**Location: Outside the Miami Police Precinct, Miami, Florida**

Emily leaned against the wall of the precinct building, ignoring the heat and humidity as best she could. JJ was talking to Will inside, probably comforting him over the loss of his friend and the revelation that the man had been gay, and she didn't feel any need to be present for that conversation. She heard footsteps nearby and looked up, seeing Will making his way toward the parking lot with a defeated, angry air about him. She almost said something, but stopped herself, not up to a confrontation.

"Emily?"

The tall woman pushed off from the wall, making herself somewhat visible.

"Here, Jennifer."

The blonde turned, finding her in the darkness and approaching slowly until they were within arm's reach of one another. After a long, silent moment, the liaison took the last step needed to be wrapped in a hug, and Emily was more than happy to oblige her. In the dim light the profiler could barely see her partner's face, but she could feel the tension in the body she held and the way the blonde seemed to lean both into and away from her, just as she had whenever things became too emotionally intense in the past month.

"I... Emily..."

The dark-haired agent got the sense that her companion wasn't there with her, a feeling she'd had repeatedly in the last few weeks. Physically Jennifer was as present as ever, but mentally, emotionally, she was elsewhere. She was back in Texas, maybe, or New Orleans, or even West Virginia, but she wasn't in Miami with the woman who loved her, the woman who wanted nothing more than to go to her knees and beg to be seen, to be touched, _anything_  that might tell her that her Jennifer was with her and not somewhere very far away, hiding some fear from her. With a silent sigh, Emily pressed a gentle kiss to JJ's lips and turned away, trusting the shadows to hide her tears.

"Whenever you're ready to tell me what's going on, I'll be here," she murmured, knowing by the quick intake of breath behind her that the liaison was listening, "but I can't keep doing this, JJ. I don't know what to do, or what you're so afraid of, but I'll wait for you to be able to tell me. If you can choose me over him and over a life that would probably be easy and comfortable and predictable, then I can wait. Just..."

She trailed off, trying to swallow a lump that was trying to choke her with the old fears of both rejection and vulnerability.

"Just remember that I love you, but I'm not invincible. I need you."

Before her body or voice could give her away the brunette started walking, slipping quietly into the precinct and to the back office they'd been working out of. Once there Emily sat down heavily and stared at the wall, wondering how things could have changed so much in a month. It had been sunny when they'd gotten home from Texas, but she had barely noticed the weather. She was still concerned about the side-effects of the drug cocktail her partner had endured. It could have been judgement day itself and she still would have ignored the outside world in favor of the woman she loved. After a few days Jennifer had seemed mostly herself, if a little quieter than usual, but they had gotten distracted again by the need to get the dog house built and the property's fence checked to be sure it could hold Keira's beloved pets. Shal and Ze'ev had been excited to see them when they'd gone to pick them up, and Johnny the hunter had too. The two dogs had been slipped sedatives, and the cross-country flight had gone much more smoothly than Emily had hoped it might. They'd explored their new territory with interest, and had settled in far faster than she'd thought possible. When she'd called Johnny to give him an update, she'd mentioned the observation to him, and he'd chuckled.

" _Dogs're smarter than most people in some ways. They know when they're home, and when they have it good. And I swear them dogs have a li'l of their people in them. The kid and Ms. Resman would have loved to know you and your lady, Emily."_

She chuckled to herself, remembering that conversation, but sobered at the thought of his last comment.

' _My lady?'_

She didn't know. She felt like Jennifer was slipping out of her reach somehow, even though they shared a house, even a bed. For a month she had kept her hands to herself, not out of prudishness or shyness but because she didn't want to push JJ when the blonde was as unsure of herself as she had become lately. While they had work to do the press liaison seemed her usual calm, collected self, but when they were alone her partner became uncertain and quiet. The strange distance between them wore on her, as did the constant internal battle to keep from just letting go and touching Jennifer as the blonde had touched her under the influence of those damned drugs.

"Agent?"

She looked up, trying to find the energy to smile at the Latina detective standing in the door.

"Detective Lopez, what can I do for you?"

"I'm taking your friends out for a night on the town... Kind of to get you to see the other side of Miami that isn't serial killers? I think you should come with us. Would do you good."

Emily almost said no, almost gave in to the urge to push past the woman and disappear into the dark, scorching night, but behind the detective she saw Jennifer looking towards her, a half-hopeful, half-pleading expression on her face. With a sigh she rose, nodding slowly. When had she ever been able to say no to those blue eyes?

"Do I have time to go back to the hotel and shower?"

Lopez grinned, leading her toward the other agents gathering near the door of the precinct,. Emily just allowed herself to be led, carefully stopping herself from touching the blonde who appeared at her side.

"Everyone wanted a chance to get cleaned up, so yeah," Lopez was saying, "I'll meet you all at the hotel in an hour, then we'll head out. Okay?"

Everyone agreed, and they packed into the vehicles they'd been loaned. As she walked into the hotel room, the profiler looked around, suddenly hating the small set of rooms. JJ had gone into the shower almost immediately, leaving her alone with her thoughts, which were starting to go down a familiar, fearful path. More and more after they'd returned from Texas she'd had moments of terror, seen shadows of that damned bomb shelter overlaying wherever she happened to be at the time... And it was usually in one of the countless hotel and motel rooms the team found itself in. Finally she'd broken down and talked to her therapist about it, who had calmly asked her what she'd been feeling when the flashes had occurred.

" _Trapped... Scared. Alone,"_  Emily remembered herself answering,  _"It doesn't make any sense. JJ's right-"_

" _Stop, Emily. What did you just say?"_

_Emily thought back, confused. She didn't think she had said anything that could have garnered his suddenly intense focus, but she tried anyway._

" _I said JJ-"_

" _Not Jennifer?" he asked softly, and the profiler was surprised to hear a hint of grief in his usually neutral voice. Then what he was pointing out sunk in, and her world spun. When had her Jennifer become JJ again? It would sound utterly ridiculous if she said it aloud, she knew, but in her mind there was a distinction, as she and the therapist had discussed more than once. JJ was out of reach, a close friend and colleague, but not more than that. Jennifer was her partner, and eventually would be her lover._

" _I..."_

" _Emily, you have to talk to her about this. Ever since the kidnapping she's helped you stay on track with your recovery. If you start having flashbacks again without that support,.."_

" _I know."_

And she had. She did. She was living it, after all. Despite their close proximity, she and Jennifer had reverted to the old habit of circling each other without ever getting quite close enough.

"Emily?"

She opened her eyes and tried to smile, but her mind was side-tracked by the vision of the tanned woman wrapped in nothing but a towel and steam. Whatever else might be awry with their relationship, the brunette decided, the attraction and love were still there in equal parts. It was the damn  _fear_ getting in the way.

"Em?"

The agent shook her head, this time able to summon a real smile, even if it was a trace sad.

"You're beautiful, you know," she murmured lovingly, deliberately stepping into Jennifer's space as she gently cupped a soft cheek in one hand, bending to brush a kiss against the liaison's lips. To her surprise, the blonde caught her hand before she could pull away, looking up at her with so much longing that Emily's heart missed a beat.

"JJ?"

"When did I stop being your Jennifer, Emily?"

The profiler blinked several times, taken off guard by the pain in her partner's whispered question, a question that unerringly echoed her own thoughts.

"I..."

She sighed, squeezing the hand still holding hers. This wasn't exactly the setting or timing she would have chosen to have this conversation, but she knew better than to evade the question. Lately she'd had too few opportunities to be honest with her partner to risk squandering such an obvious one.

"You still are... Or I hope you are. But I can't get near you, and I don't know what to do about it. You're shutting me out, and I don't know what I did to make you do that, or how to fix it. I've tried, but every time I do you just put that wall back up between us. So I guess all I can do is wait for you to sort through whatever this is, and I'll be here if you need me. In the meantime, I can't think about  _us_. I can't think about all the things I want to say... or all the things I want to do. It hurts too much."

Emily sighed, seeing the hurt in blue eyes and feeling tears try to fall from her own brown-black. She took a deep breath, forcing her emotions back into their little box for the moment.

"I love you, Jennifer," she finished sadly, "So I'll wait. Just... just tell me when you figure out what's going on, and how you feel, because I need to know."

JJ's hand fell away, leaving the brunette feeling cold and adrift. To hide the tears that were threatening again, she turned away, taking clothes out of her bag without really looking at them and slipping into the bathroom. The blonde watched her until the door closed, hiding her partner from sight. Her heart was racing, because of both Emily's kiss and her own fear. She didn't know what she'd expected, but that answer had caught her off-guard, leaving her reeling mentally. The press liaison had seen the pain her dark companion had tried to mask, had seen the tears, and her heart was feeling a little more broken than before. She had done that to her beloved Emily, and now she needed some way to fix it. She blinked as an idea occurred to her, the simplicity and obviousness of it making the blonde agent want to smack herself for not thinking of it before. After dressing and scribbling a quick note for Emily, she slipped out of the room, hating herself for leaving her partner alone with her dark thoughts but hoping the end result would be worth it. A press of a button on her phone had her in contact with Garcia. After being sworn to secrecy, Penelope listened to her plan with growing excitement, but after she had finished talking the voice on the other end of the line abruptly sobered.

"Jayj," the analyst started in a voice that was both unusually stern and pained, "if you're going to start this, you have to promise me and her that you're going to see it to the end. That woman has been waiting on you long enough. She adores you, JJ, but if you keep running on her she's eventually going to walk away. Emily can't wait forever and you've been hurting her a lot."

JJ might have said something, but Penelope wasn't done.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, she hasn't said a word to me about it. You know how she is. But all you have to do is look at the way she looks at you when you're not looking, and Jayj, you haven't been looking for a while. I know this is gonna sound really harsh, and I'm sorry 'cause you're my best friend and I love you, but you're taking her for granted again and treating her like some kind of stuffed animal you can put up on a shelf and take it down whenever you need it, ignoring it the rest of the time. If Em didn't love you so much, she'd probably be long gone by now. I don't want to have to remind you again, JJ... It hurts enough doing it now, but I think you need to hear it."

"You got some of that from Morgan, didn't you?" Jennifer asked dryly once she got her voice under some measure of control, the words still coming out somewhat strangled.

"That obvious?"

The press liaison chuckled miserably.

"Just tell me he didn't have you practice in front of a mirror until you got the voice right."

Silence was her answer, and JJ shook her head and sighed. She could easily picture Derek coaching the tech goddess on just how to deliver the near-rant, and her heart broke a bit more with the knowledge that the team had again seen something she should have long before she did and hadn't felt they could tell her about it, or didn't think it would do any good. It didn't particularly surprise her that Derek and Garcia had been talking about it, and talking about how to bring it up with her. Those two in particular had become more protective of Emily since the Samis incident, but generally that protectiveness didn't get directed at her. This time, though, she knew she deserved it. Still, she had a way to at least try to make things right, but she couldn't pull it off alone.

"Garcia, I'm serious about this. I don't think I've ever been this serious, actually. Please help me. I can't make this work without you and she deserves it. I promise I won't chicken out at the last minute or something. I want to do this for her."

That was apparently enough for Penelope, who JJ could hear setting to work on her keyboard, the keys rattling even faster than usual.

"Okay, phase one is set!" Garcia declared after a few minutes, "Go get your girl, Jayj! We'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you, Garcia," the blonde murmured, staring at an expanse of blank wall as she thought about what she was going to be doing in just a short time, "I owe you big time."

"Just you wait 'til I'm done, missy. Now scoot!"

Jennifer returned her phone to its holster, shaking her head in bemusement at her friend's ability to switch tracks so easily. She went downstairs to the lobby, where most of the team, sans Reid and Hotch, were already waiting. A glance at Morgan told her Garcia had informed him of his part in her multi-stage plan, and his quick, confident grin bolstered her own confidence. With a nod she acknowledged the look, quietly joining the rest of the group. She was talking to Rossi about something or other, responding to his comments more out of habit than any conscious thought. Next to the stocky Italian, Morgan suddenly stiffened, looking over her shoulder toward the elevators. JJ turned, almost forgetting herself at the sight of Emily. The dark agent was wearing a deep red top under a light-weight black vest and black slacks. The silver buckle of her black leather belt was off-center in a way the blonde had always found both teasing and adorable. Her own tight white pants and pale gold top felt drab next to the dark beauty, but the look in the brown-black eyes as they caught sight of her said otherwise.

"Everyone ready?" Lopez asked once Emily joined them, and various sounds or gestures of agreement prompted the Latina detective to wave them toward the door of the lobby. Their vehicles were already waiting for them, and the blonde started to climb into one when the sound of her name and hurried footsteps stopped her.

"JJ, I want to talk to you," Will's voice called from the door of the lobby, and JJ turned, looking up at the New Orleans detective. She could feel Emily's eyes on her and found her partner looking at her over his shoulder. As soon as their eyes met the brunette turned away, her body language hurt and lonely as it had been whenever the brunette thought she wasn't being watched. Jennifer wanted to go to her, to promise her that the mistake she had once made wouldn't be repeated, but first she had to face Will and make that true. Then she had to get up the guts to fix the damage she had caused, and that was the hard part. It had taken her a month already, a month of  _knowing_  what to do, and not doing it. Now she had a plan and the courage, but there were so many things that could go wrong in that moment, and Emily was giving up hope.

"What about?" she asked as she followed Will into the lobby, trying to keep both her frustration and her pain from her voice, "I thought I made it clear the last time we talked-"

"Look, JJ, we had sex," he interrupted, "I thought we were having a good time, then you disappear without a word. You barely told me anything in that one phone call. Why can't we be together? What is it, another guy? Your team doesn't like me? What? I thought-"

" _What_?" she hissed, suddenly almost unbearably angry with him, and with herself, "You thought  _what_ , Will? That we'd live happily ever after, that you were the best I ever had, and now we should have kids together? That I'd move to New Orleans, or you'd move to Quantico, and we'd start our new life?"

"That's not fair, JJ," he complained, looking stricken, "I love you! I want to marry you... But not if you won't have me. I thought maybe we could at least talk over drinks or something. I don't want to leave things this way!"

She felt a little guilty for taking out her anger on him, but she couldn't take back the words, nor would she if given the chance. She was angry and hurting, but what was worse was being aware of Emily standing outside in the miserable, wet heat just so she wouldn't have to watch her talk to LaMontagne, and knowing the team was watching them too. JJ sighed, her anger draining away as she looked past Will to the tired, beautiful form outside. She could run away, she knew. That's what she'd always done, even with Emily, and here again was the perfect excuse. Worse was knowing that if she were to go with Will tonight, Emily would stand back and let her go, because the profiler was, as she'd observed so many times in the last month, losing hope. She would go home, play with the dogs, and when Jennifer came in she would pretend she hadn't been crying. And to go home and face Keira's beloved dogs after...

"No," she replied softly, shaking her head, "No, Will. I've made a lot of mistakes, and I need to start making up for one of the big ones tonight."

"Just give me a date and time and-"

Her glare silenced him, but then the liaison sighed, looking past him again to see Emily straightening, looking as if she was about to walk away into the night rather than go with the team to the club.

"Screw it."

Detective LaMontagne watched as the woman he'd dreamed of marrying jogged out of the hotel, catching the brunette agent, Prentiss, as she was about to leave. Prentiss looked as if she were going to turn away again, but JJ gently grabbed her arm, saying something Will couldn't hear from where he stood. Agent Prentiss started to turn away again, this time visibly struggling for composure, but again JJ grabbed hold of her. This time, however, the blonde didn't waste time talking. Instead, in full view of a crowded hotel lobby, she pulled the dark head down for a kiss. Agent Prentiss looked surprised at first, but as JJ started to talk again he distinctly made out the shape of the words "shut up", and the taller agent kissed her back. He started for the door, his mind blank, torn between appreciating the fact that two women were making out in front of him, and at the same time, angry and hurt because one of those women was supposed to be kissing  _him_.

"Finally," the athletic Agent Morgan muttered from a short distance away as he stepped back inside, apparently realizing they wouldn't be leaving right away and not wanting to stand in the sweltering heat. He was watching the pair appreciatively, but with none of the lust or lewdness Will might have expected from a guy like him. Stocky Agent Rossi and skinny Dr. Reid were with him, and Rossi nodded knowingly.

"Mmm. I thought she'd never do it."

He strode away to join Agent Hotchner and Lopez near one of the waiting SUV's, leaving the younger men alone.

"It's been what? A couple months now?" Reid asked, and Morgan chuckled, thinking something over before responding.

"Yeah, something like that."

Both agents shook their heads, then caught his stare. Will, for his part, was shocked. Not only did the entire team apparently know the two were a couple, this had been going on for months!

"You guys are just... Okay with that?" he asked, retaining enough control to keep his voice down in the buzzing lobby. The profilers shrugged, and Morgan nudged the skinny kid before he could launch into something long-winded. The Latina detective strolled back over, watching the pair kiss and then giving Derek an appraising stare, which he returned calmly.

"Didn't think you had it in you to ignore that kind of show," she remarked, her tone almost casual but with too much danger to quite manage. Morgan shrugged, taking another moment to think before he spoke.

"Emily and JJ are like sisters to me. They're family. Do I think they're hot as hell? Yes. Would I ever, ever want to intrude on them or disrespect them? No way. Even if I  _did_  want to, JJ's got aim like you wouldn't believe and Emily can kick my ass."

"And so you're just okay with it, even though it flies in the face of a dozen regulations?" she persisted, and the dark man suddenly hardened, his demeanor changing from flirtatious and amused to something like wariness and anger, but he wasn't the one to respond first.

"JJ and Emily saved each other," Hotchner observed quietly, appearing behind them as if summoned, "As agents, I can't replace them. As people, even less so. I made a choice, knowing that I could lose my command in doing so. I stand by that choice, and I will continue to do so if they choose to go public,. I would rather have them together, where I can be there to step in if their relationship affects their work, which it hasn't to date, except to make them better. And lastly, it's no one's business but theirs. No one asks you what you do in your off hours, Detectives. I certainly wouldn't presume to ask my agents or attempt to control them."

"But they're right there, flaunting-"

"The case is over," the man interrupted firmly, his voice and hawk-like eyes conveying warning without ever seeming to change tone or expression, "They're officially off the clock, and what they do is their concern. Would I prefer more discretion? Of course. But both of them have earned the right to do as they will, without question from me. And before either of you goes too far down the road of regulations and reporting my agents, try to remember how you would feel if your superiors meddled in your personal lives."

That shut Detective Lopez up, but LaMontagne didn't want to accept that answer. The last few days had pushed him to his limit, and between finding out that a man he had thought he knew and understood had been secretly gay and seeing JJ with the other woman in a relationship that had apparently been going on for a while, he was not in a mood to just let it go. He was angry, hurt, and frustrated, and a part of him just wanted to get into a fight, just wanted to have someone to lash out at so he wouldn't have to deal with so many conflicting emotions

"If she was out there with you, would you be complaining?" Agent Morgan asked him suddenly, his usually friendly smile replaced with a coldly assessing stare. The New Orleans detective stared back at him, startled by the question and the intelligent menace being directed at him.

"What-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, LaMontagne," Morgan growled, taking a step toward him, away from his colleagues, "You're pissed because you want JJ, and she's out there with someone else, with a  _woman_ , and you can't do a damn thing about it. If you were the one out there with her, you'd be happy as hell, and it'd never occur to you that anyone would say a word."

" _I_ am not on the same team, or even in the Bureau!" Will objected, more than a little surprised to find himself under attack, "I doubt your regulations would approve of an inter-team relationship, much less-"

"If I hear the words I think you're about to say come out of your mouth, I swear you'll find yourself out flat on the floor," the dark agent threatened, his hands clenched into fists. Will sized him up, realizing the black man had height, reach, and probably weight on him, and most of that weight would be muscle. A fight with him would be a losing fight. Lopez was staring at the man she'd been casually flirting with this whole trip, obviously amazed at the transformation and at his fierce defense of the two women.

"Emily and JJ are family, and I won't have some-"

"Morgan."

The single word froze the big agent in his tracks, and Agent Hotchner stepped between them, stocky Agent Rossi just behind him.

"That's enough, both of you."

Something in the man's bearing told Will that he would be worse off against Hotchner than he would against Morgan, and it had nothing to do with muscles. Will looked over his shoulder and saw that the two agents had parted, and JJ was talking earnestly, the hand she still had wrapped around Prentiss' arm switching from restraint to a sort of intimate possessiveness that looked both natural and profound between them. Breaking away from the group, he strode outside in time to hear part of what JJ was saying.

"-and it's not about Will or the team or anyone else. It's just... If we do... It's real, it's done, and it could go wrong, or one or both of us could get hurt. It's knowing my family would never accept you and yours wouldn't accept me. Mostly it's about how I've always,  _always_  run away before now, but I don't want to run away. Not from you, not again, and-"

The blonde stopped as soon as she saw the expression on Prentiss' shadowed face shift, turning without ever quite letting go of the woman as if she were afraid the brunette would disappear otherwise.

" _This_  is why we can't be together?" he asked hoarsely, not really wanting to hear the answer, but hoping that somehow he could salvage the situation, could still be with this woman who was everything he'd ever hoped for. He couldn't just stand by and watch her slip away, especially not after the last few days. It was too much, and his mind seemed to tunnel, limiting his thinking to who to blame and how to make them hurt the way he was.

"Will..."

JJ sighed, looking uncertainly at Prentiss before straightening, taking strength from the other woman somehow.

"Yes," she replied simply. That was all. No explanation, no excuses, just an affirmative, and that was too much.

"Damn it, JJ! You know we'd be good together! You were there that night! What happened was right, it was natural, and I think you're just running away! I think you're afraid to be with me, afraid I might want you to move or give up your position, and you're afraid to just be happy! You're just running scared, right into her! And why  _her_ , JJ?! Why-"

"You don't know what you're talking about," JJ growled, blue eyes flashing at the interrupted insult to her -what? Lover? Friend? Girlfriend?- but instead of advancing as Morgan had, she took a step back, very deliberately moving away from him and toward Prentiss, "Yeah, I was there that night. I was there because I was running away, not toward something. You and I having sex just happened, that doesn't make it right! It wasn't right for me, and it never was!"

He might have tried to get a word in edgewise, but JJ wouldn't let him, her expression changing from angry to sad.

"I was looking for a way to go back to my family, Will. A way to go home that wouldn't mean endless fights with my family and hers, fights with the Bureau and always having to watch myself for a conflict of interest. It didn't work. It  _can't_ work, because Emily  _is_  my home. I was running away, and I'm sorry that you got caught up in it. I'm sorry I led you on, and I'm sorry you're getting hurt now, but being sorry isn't enough. I don't love you. And Emily-"

She hesitated for a moment, then took another half-step back, coming into full contact with the woman behind her, looking up at her in exactly the way he wanted JJ to look at him before turning back to him.

"I'm not going to move to New Orleans, you're not going to move to Quantico, we're not going to have a dog and 2.5 kids together. My family wanted that for me, so I thought I should want it, but no. I have a house, I have dogs, and I have Emily. I  _am_  happy, for the first time in my life. So please, just accept that the answer is no, and it isn't going to change."

He started forward, though he wasn't sure why or for what purpose, but suddenly the quiet, still shadow he had almost forgotten about while the liaison had spoken moved, slipping around to place herself between him and JJ. Suddenly all his rage and hurt and shattered hopes had a target, and all control vanished. He lashed out, but the tall woman wasn't there anymore. She had side-stepped his wild punch, letting him overbalance and stumble past her as she pulled the blonde away from him.

"Don't, Detective," she warned quietly, her face half-hidden by shadows but her voice calm and controlled, "get a grip and walk it off before you do something you regret."

Some small part of his mind knew she was right, knew he had to stop, but the rest of him, the part deafened by the rushing of blood in his ears and blinded by rage, refused to answer to logic. He went at her again, further enraged by the ease with which she slid herself and JJ out of his path as she had before.

"I'm not going to warn you again, Will," she told him, but a sound of bestial rage escaped him as he charged again, his mind blinding him to everything the sight of her pulling the beautiful blonde away. This time she didn't side-step. Instead, she ducked under his outstretched arm and caught him in the belly with her shoulder, turning the move into throw that landed him on his back on the concrete handicap ramp. He blinked, momentarily stunned, then rolled to his feet, trying to catch his breath. The sight of her standing calmly with JJ looking at her with such concern and affection drove logic to the wayside again, and he went at her in earnest. Prentiss just never seemed to be where he expected her to be, and after a moment he found himself on his back again, unsure how he had gotten there, with a knee in his stomach and a strong forearm at his throat. He couldn't move without choking himself, not even to get his hands on her, though he tried to throw her off. She kept him pinned until he was seeing gray from lack of oxygen and stopped struggling, and only then did she loosen her grip. Over her shoulder he could see Morgan and JJ, both looking at him with anger and a desire to cause harm, but Emily's dark eyes drew him back, and there he found a surprising amount of understanding.

"I know I'd fight for her if I were in your place," she murmured, her voice for his ears alone, "but you need to stop before you get hurt. JJ wouldn't want that, and neither do I, not really. I'm going to get up, and when I do you can either walk away, go back to New Orleans and comfort a grieving woman, or you can swing at me again."

She kneeled there for a second longer, maybe to give him time to think about his options, then rose slowly, turning toward her colleagues. He pushed himself to his knees, then his feet, panting, then lurched toward the retreating shadow. Dark hair flew as she spun, and the last thing he saw was a fist coming at his face.

"Damn it," Emily muttered, looking down at the Louisiana detective, rubbing her bruised knuckles, "Now I know why they tell you to never hit a man in the head with a closed fist."

Despite himself Derek chuckled, and she smiled a little, glad the joke had worked to defuse some of the tension from her colleague. JJ, she knew, would need more, but for now the younger woman settled for taking her hand and examining it carefully, as if afraid that Emily had done more harm to herself than some bruising.

"We should probably do something with him," she remarked, looking down at the detective. She almost felt bad for him, knowing the back of his head and the growing bruise over his temple would hurt when he came to, but at the same time, he had attacked her. She had given him every chance to stop, and he hadn't. More importantly, he had attacked her because he wanted to take JJ away, and that wasn't something she could have stood by for.

"He can do whatever he wants when he comes to," Detective Lopez declared, joining them, "but for now he can roast for all I care. That was a sweet punch, Agent Prentiss. Not many women could knock a man cold like that."

"I told you she could kick my ass," Morgan shot back, grinning. Jennifer watched the pair banter for a moment, then turned to her, blue eyes pained.

"Emily..."

Understanding, the brunette glanced at Hotch, who nodded, then took her partner's hand and led her away, out of line of sight of the lobby.

"Jennifer, it's all right," she assured the other woman before she could speak, "I kind of expected that and worse from him. He obviously thought you would be leaving with him."

"It's not 'all right', Emily! It's all my fault-"

"Enough of that," the brunette interrupted, "You weren't the one throwing punches, he was. And I'm guessing he attacked me because he saw us together after you told him you were choosing me over him earlier. Right?"

The blonde could only nod, and Emily smiled slowly.

"Then no, Jennifer, you have nothing to apologize for. You told him, and me, the truth. He made the choice to keep attacking me after I warned him off. It sounds like Morgan warned him off too, and that didn't stop him either. So it would have come to a fight eventually. The only thing I wonder about is why he pushed so hard. I didn't actually expect him to keep coming at me. It's like he thought he had some special claim to you."

"I don't know," Jennifer sighed tiredly, "I've told him three times now that there wasn't anything between him and me."

"Well, I can't exactly insult his taste," Emily observed. Derek started to say something, but just then one of Lopez's colleagues showed up, and after a brief conversation the Miami detectives enlisted some help from the hotel to get him up to his room, then she got the rest of the team headed off to the club, telling them she wanted to take a quick statement from Emily for formality's sake. She did, but it was one of the briefest questionings she'd ever encountered. As Lopez signed and handed off the paperwork to her coworker, Emily sat down on the hotel stairs, trying to gather herself. The fight had rattled her somewhat, but what had been more disturbing had been the wildness in Will's eyes when he'd attacked her. She'd never had someone other than an UnSub look at her like that. To get that from a member of law enforcement, someone who wanted Jennifer...

"We're going to keep a guard at his door and ship him back home with friend's effects tomorrow on the first flight," the Miami detective informed her as she approached, "We're also sending a recommendation to his captain that he get some counseling."

"That's good. I think this case might have really messed him up," Emily remarked, thinking about saying more on the subject.

"We leaving?" she asked instead, turning away slightly, not wanting the other woman to see the cloud that had settled over her. She saw Lopez nod and slowly got to her feet, trying and failing not to think about Will LaMontagne and everything he'd gone through in the last few days. Losing his friend, losing JJ, finding out both were gay and he hadn't known...

"There are a lot of clubs in Miami, but the one I'm taking your people to has a generally better atmosphere and much better food than most of the others," Lopez offered, obviously trying to draw her out out of her thoughts and growing depression.

Emily nodded, following the other agent out to her car after collecting the purse she had set down when LaMontagne had shown up. She kept quiet during the drive to the club and spoke only to greet her teammates once they got there and to the table the BAU agents had claimed. To her surprise JJ wasn't there, though her purse and light coat were. When Rossi saw her looking at them he shrugged, gesturing silently to one section of the club where the DJ's booth and restrooms were housed. She assumed her friend had gone to the bathroom and sighed quietly, listening to the music that was playing while her colleagues chattered around her. Apparently it was requests and open mic night, and whoever had put in the last request had not been in a good mood, it seemed. That was fine. The melancholy song matched her own mood just then.

_Goodbye my almost lover_

_Goodbye my hopeless dream_

_I'm trying not to think about you_

_Can't you just let me be?_

_So long my luckless romance_

_My back is turned on you_

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache_

_Almost lovers always do_

_I cannot go to the ocean_

_I cannot drive the streets at night_

_I cannot wake up in the morning_

_Without you on my mind_

_So you're gone and I'm haunted_

_And I bet you are just fine_

_Did I make it that easy_

_To walk right in and out of my life?_

As she listened the profiler desperately wished her medication allowed her to drink. The lyrics were hitting a little too close to home. She wondered idly where JJ was as Reid handed her a glass of ginger ale, the closest she could come to beer, feeling oddly detached from her surroundings. When the song ended she was absently grateful, and was just glad her companions didn't seem to be aware of how distant she was. A new song started, and but she couldn't identify this one just by the opening bars. A flash of blonde hair caught her eye near the platform used by those brave enough to get up and sing the songs they wanted their friends or significant others to hear. She didn't think much of it other than to wonder where  _her_  blonde was, but a startled sound from Reid made her look up and take a second look.

"Jennifer..." she whispered, her eyes widening as she finally recognized the woman wearing form-fitting white jeans and that gold silk shirt that made her skin seem to glow. All Emily's detachment and exhaustion fell away, replaced by an intense need to know why JJ was up there and what she was going to sing.

"The last request really struck me," the blonde started, her voice carrying easily to where the BAU team sat, "because I'm someone's 'almost lover,' but that's not what I want to be. I want to be..."

JJ paused, then shook her head, adding wryly as her eyes swept the room, "I want to be a lot more than their lover, and I think I'm messing that up. The more I listened to those lyrics, the more I wondered if they would ever turn their back on me, and I started to think I might deserve it. I can't apologize enough, but I have to start somewhere."

The liaison took a deep breath, her eyes landing and locking on Emily. Then she started to sing, her voice untrained but controlled with the discipline of someone who used their voice for a living.

_I like the way you sound in the morning_

_We're on the phone and without a warning_

_I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard_

_I like the way I can't keep my focus_

_I watch you talk, you didn't notice_

_I hear the words but all I can think is we should be together_

_Every time you smile, I smile_

_And every time you shine, I'll shine for you_

_Woah-oh I'm feeling you baby_

_Don't be afraid to jump then fall_

_Jump then fall into me_

_Baby, I'm never gonna leave you_

_Say that you wanna be with me too_

_Cause I'm gonna stay through it all_

_So jump then fall_

_Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face_

_Oh, You got the keys to me, I love each freckle on your face_

_Oh, I've never been so wrapped up, honey_

_I like the way you're everything I've ever wanted_

_I had time to think it over_

_And all I can say is come closer_

_Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me_

_Cause every time you smile, I smile_

_And every time you shine, I'll shine for you_

_Woah-oh I'm feeling you baby_

_Don't be afraid to jump then fall_

_Jump then fall into me_

_Baby, I'm never gonna leave you_

_Say that you wanna be with me too_

_Cause I'm gonna stay through it all_

_So jump then fall_

The music picked up and the blonde spread her free arm, her leg keeping the beat as her eyes stayed glued to the dark woman, holding her in their intense blue gaze. Emily couldn't have turned away if she wanted to, not when the woman she loved was looking and singing to  _her_  with such honesty and emotion... not to mention all the love and devotion. That wasn't a consideration at all, really. Had she been less focused, Emily would have laughed at herself and her denial.

_The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet_

_I'll catch you, I'll catch you_

_When people say things that bring you to your knees_

_I'll catch you_

_The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry_

_But I'll hold you though the night until you smile_

_Woah-oh I need you baby_

_Don't be afraid please jump then fall_

_Jump then fall into me_

_Baby, I'm never gonna leave you_

_Say that you wanna be with me too_

_Cause I'm gonna stay through it all_

_So jump then fall_

_Jump then fall, baby_

_Jump then fall into me_

_Into me_

_And every time you smile, I smile_

_And every time you shine, I'll shine_

_And every time you're here, baby I'll show you_

_I'll show you you can jump then fall_

_Jump then fall_

_Jump then fall into me_

_Into me_

_Yeah_

By the time Jennifer's rendition of the Taylor Swift song faded the people in the club had all fallen under the spell of her voice, hearing as clearly as Emily had that she had put her whole heart into the song, something incredibly hard to do under any circumstances, but even harder for someone as private as JJ. The blonde stayed where she was for a moment, just staring at Emily, then her shoulders dropped a fraction and she handed the mic off to the next brave soul, disappearing off to one side, apparently taking whatever she saw on her lover's face as rejection. The brunette was frozen where she was, though, torn between her heart wanting nothing more than to go do exactly what JJ had just asked of her and the part of her mind that wanted to just slip away and brood, distancing herself from all her friends and the beautiful liaison in particular.

"Are you really going to let that walk away from you, Prentiss?" Rossi asked quietly from her side, startling her. The others were all watching her, but she ignored them, focusing on the Italian. He was looking at her with that piercing stare of his, but there was something else there, something that spoke of emptiness and a great many lonely days and nights.

"Sometimes listening to that angry little voice is a good idea," he went on intently, as if he could read her thoughts, " It keeps you safe from people who have caused you pain before. But do you really think this is one of those times? People in our line of work don't often get a chance to be happy. Yours is right in front of you. Are you so afraid that you'll turn your back on it just to keep from getting hurt? I've got news for you, Prentiss. It happens anyway. Might as well have someone who cares enough to help you heal."

"Sir..."

She wanted to ask him what he was talking about, how he knew, or why he was encouraging her, but none of that came out. All she could do was stare at him, and he looked right back. Suddenly his piercing gaze softened, and he smiled wryly.

"Besides, I think you two would make a great couple. You balance each other. In our line of work, balance is a rare thing. Too rare to waste."

Emily stared at him a moment longer, then turned to her team members, all of whom clearly agreed. The angry voice inside of her tried to remind her again of all the hurts, past and present, and all the reasons not to let go of them, but Rossi's gaze was unwavering and wouldn't allow for any excuses.

" _Why_ , sir? Why is this so important to you?" she asked softly, and he smiled again, shrugging. His eyes, though, were still intense, refusing to let her turn away.

"Because it's important to you."

She froze again, staring past him to the stage, thinking about the state Rossi had been in when she'd said those words to him and the varied emotions on his face when she had. She blinked slowly, seeing and hearing Jennifer's song all over again. An idea formed in her mind, and before she could chicken out she acted, striding away from the table with speed and purpose despite her aching leg. JJ, returning to the table, saw Prentiss retreat rapidly and sighed, aborting her approach and turning to the bar. She needed a drink. As she slipped to the bar, another song started, but she didn't pay any attention at first, wanting nothing more than to get a strong drink and forget everything for a while, but when the bartender asked what she wanted, she found herself ordering a soda and aspirin. She couldn't bring herself to run away any more, so instead she turned back to the table, forcing her legs to take her there and into her seat. She could feel Rossi's eyes on her, dark and unreadable, but she couldn't face him, or anyone else. She didn't know what else she could do, and that lack of ideas, of a plan, was tearing her apart. To lose Emily...

"Agent Jareau."

Rossi's voice startled her enough that she looked up, but her gaze never quite made it to him. There, on the stage where she had stood a few minutes ago, was Emily, her dark eyes staring straight at her. She sat still as a statue, wondering if what she was about to hear was condemnation, forgiveness, or something in between, and too afraid to hope. The song began to play, and the words that came in Emily's musical but weary voice only made her feel more uncertain and lost.

_Lying beside you, here in the dark_

_Feeling your heart beat with mine_

_Softly you whisper, you're so sincere_

_How could our love be so blind_

_We sailed on together_

_We drifted apart_

_And here you are by my side_

_So now I come to you, with open arms_

_Nothing to hide, believe what I say_

_So here I am with open arms_

_Hoping you'll see what your love means to me_

_Open arms_

JJ listened, wondering at the mixed messages of the song. It was confusing, but as the profiler's voice lifted in the next verse, Jennifer rose, ignoring the odd looks from her team and worked her way to the edge of the "stage" Emily stood on, staring up at the dark woman singing to her, willing her to share in the epiphany, to know what it was that had brought her here. Emily sang on, but JJ didn't flinch from words that, moments ago, might have shattered her because of some misunderstanding.

_Living without you, living alone_

_This empty house seems so cold_

_Wanting to hold you, wanting you near_

_How much I wanted you home_

_But now that you've come back_

_Turned night into day_

_I need you to stay._

_So now I come to you, with open arms_

_Nothing to hide, believe what I say_

_So here I am with open arms_

_Hoping you'll see what your love means to me_

_Open arms_

The brunette sighed and set the mic aside, apparently oblivious to the applause of the crowd as she slipped down the trio of stairs that separated the rest of the room from the stage. JJ followed her closely, catching up to her friend where she waited in the hallway that led to the back exit and the restrooms. The music was quieter here, enough so that they could talk and not be easily overheard by those outside.

"What if I can't forgive you, Jennifer?" Emily asked as she approached, not looking up as she spoke, "What if I can't stop wondering why he has a part of you that I have never touched? How can I believe you love me more than him when he's the one you slept with while I've been in your bed, wanting you so bad it hurt, all this time?"

JJ had expected something like that, but it still stung. She didn't say anything, just planted herself in front of the older agent, waiting for her to have her say.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to lay there next to you every night and keep my hands to myself? Have you ever sat awake staring at the ceiling because your body was telling you to do something you couldn't?"

JJ nodded, knowing Emily was watching her behind her bangs. She didn't know how she'd resisted the need to touch the woman next to her every night, to find out what it would feel like to kiss her and let go of the iron control that she'd demanded of herself for so long. Then she remembered. Every time she'd started to reach for her beloved companion, she'd remember the day she had been caught with her girlfriend and the terrified teenager she had been was sure that as soon as she crossed that line with Emily, everything would shatter just as it had then.

"Why is it when we both have what we want, we're too frightened to do anything about it?"

Jennifer felt herself starting to smile. Emily looked up, visibly startled by her reaction, and even moreso by the calm understanding in the blonde's gaze.

"Because we never get we want, Emily," JJ replied softly, moving half a step closer to her companion, her fingertips brushing the brunette's face, "So we have to find a way to ruin it when we do. I see it in people we work with all the time. It's easier to run away from something than face losing it. I did it by going to Will... And I understand that maybe you're not ready to completely forgive me yet. But maybe we can find other ways to move on, Em. Maybe it's about time we stop holding back, because the more we do the easier it'll be for one of us to walk away."

Emily stared at her, dark eyes searching her face. The liaison smiled again, this time with gentle affection and just a hint of longing.

"When you spend all your time wanting, how are you supposed to plan what to do when you get it? I'm just figuring it out as we go along."

Brown-black eyes widened at that, and JJ nodded when she saw that Emily understood the point she was making.

"I never planned for this," she explained quietly, her expression becoming intense in her need to communicate her thoughts, "I never even knew I wanted it, but we've been circling each other for months, wanting and hoping, but never expecting it to actually happen. In our line of work, a plan can mean the difference between life and death. In my position, planning is the best and most essential tool I have. But sometimes we have to improvise, Emily. Throw the plans out the window and  _act_. You were the one who told me that months ago. Why can't we do a little of that now?"

Some part of Emily wanted to argue, to reject what JJ was saying as out of line and desperate, but she couldn't. That angry, dark corner of her mind might want that, but she, Emily Prentiss, wanted something else entirely. She wanted...

"Screw it."

Emily moved, grabbing Jennifer's arm and turning so the blonde was pressed back against the wall, then bent her head, capturing her friend's lips in a scorching, searching kiss. JJ gasped, then moaned, and the taller woman could feel her struggling to stay on her feet. Despite her inner self's ranting against her stupidity and recklessness she grinned, wondering how Jennifer would respond when they finally made love. The thought made her grin turn decidedly feral, and she shoved away the dark voice in her mind. Jennifer was  _hers_ , and once they were somewhere private she'd drive Will and anyone else far, far from the blonde's thoughts. She'd touch everywhere Will had dared and more, and she wouldn't allow JJ to run away from her. She wouldn't allow herself to run away either.

"God...  _Emily_..."

The name was part prayer, part desperate request, part warning, and it sent shivers down the taller agent's spine. When she looked, JJ's eyes were tightly closed and she looked terrified and exhilarated all at once, and more than a little hungry.

"Open your eyes," Emily commanded firmly, both for her partner's sake and for her own. She needed to see the emotion in those familiar blue eyes, needed to see that she hadn't made a mistake she couldn't take back. After a moment JJ obeyed, looking surprised for a split second, but that was all it took. Her hands took hold of Emily's tailored silk vest, yanking her closer and down for another kiss.

"You're still here," the blonde whispered breathlessly, not pulling away, "you're still here..."

Emily nodded slightly, wrapping Jennifer in her arms, momentarily forgetting where they were. The helpless relief in JJ's voice had told her just how frightened the other woman had been, even if Jennifer hadn't realized it. She kicked herself for not having seen it before. She was supposed to be a profiler, and she hadn't been able to see how terrified the woman she loved was of the potential consequences of any intimacy between them. It wasn't as if she had never seen that sort of fear before. Irrational as it could be, it was still extremely powerful, and even the most intelligent, strong men and women had fallen prey to it.

"Always, love."

JJ nodded, breaking their shared gaze to bury her face in Emily's shoulder, breathing heavily. Emily admired her restraint. All she had wanted to do was keep going, and had Jennifer not looked away she might have lost all control. After all, a month and more of sleeping next to this woman had taken quite a toll on her reserves, especially after what had nearly happened when JJ was drugged.

"Maybe we should..."

"Don't even say what I think you're going to, JJ," Derek's voice warned as the profiler came into view from behind the thick curtain that separated the main floor from this hall, "I think you've waited enough to do whatever it is you're going to do."

"Morgan-"

"No, JJ. You're about to be all noble and honorable, but maybe Prentiss has had her fill of honorable. You think about that?"

Blue eyes met hers, and Emily could tell that while they were both surprised by Derek's sudden appearance and commentary, Jennifer was more accustomed to Morgan than Emily was. Her eyes softened, and her hands, still loosely twined in Emily's vest, smoothed the garment, resting where they were after a moment.

"It's your call, Em. We can keep taking this slow, or..."

The blonde paused, her expression somewhere between hungry and unsure, then, "or we can see what happens when we let go. Whatever you want to do, I'll do."

The profiler looked between the dark agent and her friend, trying to decide what she wanted and what she was feeling. She was still angry, and she knew it might not be entirely healthy to jump into a physical relationship with Jennifer. On the other hand... They had been on the edge of a physical relationship for how long and they hadn't crossed that last damn line? As she thought about it she became angry for another reason entirely. She hated her mother and Jennifer's family. She hated the girl who had betrayed JJ so long ago and set this whole chain of events in motion, and she hated Will LaMontagne for his role in the whole mess. She hated all the people who had insisted that she, Emily, be more like Elizabeth Prentiss. More refined, dignified, proper, ambitious, focused, realistic... She hated the whole litany.

"No more waiting," she declared firmly, surprised by how like a growl her voice had become, "I'm done."

JJ nodded once, slowly, then again more sharply as she took in Emily's expression, her blue eyes darkening with a mix of hungry desire and something almost like fear. The dark woman understood and tried to smile. The blonde was seeing her anger and resentment, and didn't realize it wasn't directed at her. Or at least it wasn't for the most part.

"If I had done this before," she murmured, leaning into the younger woman, blocking Derek's presence from her mind, "You would have never needed Will."

Before the liaison could react Emily kissed her again, harder this time. She felt Jennifer's knees give out and grinned, proud to have so reduced her friend. She had meant what she said. She was done waiting, done holding back. The profiler leaned them both against the wall, using its solidness to keep her partner on her feet and kept kissing her until her lungs burned and she felt her control starting to slip.

"Home. We need to be home."

Jennifer's voice was barely recognizable as human, and her usually clear gaze had become nearly as dark as Emily's own. Because of that the brunette was confused for a moment, but JJ's voice and expression were determined as she explained.

"I am not having-" the blonde liaison stopped, shaking her head as she corrected herself, "I am not making love to you for the first time in a hotel room, Emily. Our first time is going to be in our bed, in our house."

Emily groaned internally at the thought of waiting longer. She didn't wait for any more time than it took for JJ to get her balance back before leading her back toward the table, ignoring Morgan and his smug expression behind them as she pushed through the crowd, her companion's hand held tightly in her own.

"Hotch, when can we fly back?" she asked, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt. From the hint of a smile tugging at Rossi's mouth and the way Reid squirmed and tried not to look her in the eye, she doubted she was succeeding but she didn't really care. If necessary she would pay for a charter flight back to Virginia herself.

"I was just discussing that with Dave and Detective Lopez. We're going to leave tomorrow morning, so we should get back to Virginia in the early afternoon. I'm going to need you two to fill out an incident report in case LaMontagne decides to cause any trouble over the fight, so you should be home some time in the evening tomorrow."

"Sir..."

"That sounds like a good plan," Jennifer interjected smoothly when Emily's voice felt as if it were about to come out a little too raw, making the dark woman's heart sink into her chest until she added in a quiet aside to the profiler, "we might as well take advantage of what we've got. Come dance with me?"

The dark agent nodded, torn between wanting to dance with Jennifer and the almost painful need to have the other woman in bed with her, naked and wanting her as badly as she wanted the blonde. Realism and training, both FBI and other, won out, and she followed her partner's lead out onto the club's dance floor. There was a good mix in the club and on the floor, she noted absently. There were mixed couples and same-sex couples, groups and individuals. She and Jennifer weren't out of place at all, and she let herself relax into the pulsing flow and rhythm unique to clubs, feeling the music change around her to something she didn't recognize, a song with a beat that vibrated through her lean frame. Her body knew what to do with it even if her mind didn't, however. She stepped into and around Jennifer, wrapping her arms around the younger woman's waist. JJ leaned back, her fingertips brushing the arms holding her until they met at Emily's hands, where they clasped over the long fingers splayed low across her stomach, trapping those fingers in place.

"Emily..." Jennifer breathed appreciatively, leaning into the tall body and resting her head against a slim shoulder. The brunette felt as if she could trace the path of every electrical current in her body, particularly where she and the other agent touched. Every nerve was alive and intensely sensitive to touch, and a part of her wondered if that was how Jennifer had felt after being drugged. A moment later, however, she stopped thinking about anything except the moment as soft lips pressed against her neck and calloused fingers pressed against hers. Unable to resist, she slowly slid her hands under golden silk, finding skin that was even softer than the fine cloth. A low groan in her ear told her JJ approved. They lost all track of time as they melted into one another, the blonde taking advantage of her position to kiss and nibble at Emily's exposed throat and jaw. The taller woman groaned, her hands sliding from under the golden shirt to grasp white-clad hips, drawing the other agent hard against her as the music changed again. The press liaison moaned into her neck, reaching up to twine her fingers behind Emily's head and pull her down for a slow, burning kiss. When they separated the profiler found herself gasping, looking into blue eyes that scorched her.

"Jennifer," she half-growled, half-panted, "If we don't cool off now I'm not going to be held responsible for what might I do."

"Oh?"

There was no mistaking the mischievous sensuality in the liaison's voice, or the rawness of her desire. It was a match for Emily's own, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the fire burning low in her abdomen, a fire that threatened to overwhelm any attempt at control.

"Oh?" the brunette repeated, wondering just what Jennifer was finding so funny.

"And what might you do, my Emily?" JJ asked teasingly, fingers tangling in her dark hair as the shorter agent leaned up to kiss a path up her neck.

"God, Jennifer... Please don't tease me," she pleaded desperately, feeling her control slipping even further, "It's going to be hard enough to get through the next 24 hours as it is. Please don't make it any harder."

"Hmmm..." her partner hummed, blue eyes locking on brown-black again, "And what if I want to tease? What if I want to barely make it through the door tomorrow before-"

"Don't," the brunette begged, knowing exactly where her companion was about to go, "I can't... I've been wanting you for so long, Jennifer... Please, if you're going to make me wait until tomorrow when we get home, don't torture me. I can't take it. I'm not strong enough."

The blonde took a long look at the tall profiler, gazing into the wild storm the usually calm, controlled dark eyes had become, feeling the heat of the body behind her and the hard grip trembling hands had on her hips, as if the long fingers held their place only by the strength of their hold on her. Emily had taken as much as she could bear, and Jennifer had to admit that she had too. She closed her eyes, mastering her own desire to continue and see where this would lead before turning against the slim, pale body.

"I love you, Emily Prentiss, and when we get home I promise we'll be done with waiting."

Emily nodded, embracing her tightly as if hoping to convey her obviously chaotic emotions through the simplicity of a strong grip. It worked.

**Date and Time: May 2, 2008, 19:51 (Eastern Time)**

**Location: Jennifer Jareau's Home Outside Quantico, Virginia**

"Garcia, are you sure about this?" Morgan asked, sounding far more amused than unsure. The tech goddess glared at him, waving a finger in his face.

"You listen to me, hot stuff, because I'm only gonna explain this one more time" she shot back, caught somewhere between laughter and deadly focus, "Jayj slept with that New Orleans crawfish detective, and she and Emily have been walking on eggshells ever since then... And since Texas."

"Just how many broken eggs are we talking here?" he asked, all innocence. Penelope threw him another glare, then apparently decided the comment didn't deserve any reply.

"From what little Hotch and Rossi said when we talked to them," she continued, pointedly ignoring his humoring smile, "Those two lovely ladies had some sort of moment back in Montana, and JJ finally made a move in Miami. They don't need to get stuck in that stupid thing they've had going again. So, we're going to finish setting this up, and make ourselves scarce."

"I don't know, Garcia," Derek replied thoughtfully even as he took a candleholder from the shorter woman and put it into position, "They have stuff they have to talk about. Emily's been worried sick about JJ, and JJ's been too scared. Maybe we shouldn't push them. What if they aren't ready?"

"This coming from Derek Morgan, king of the dance and romance? I can't believe my ears."

The dark agent laughed, hugging Garcia as he passed her to put yet another candle into its place.

"That's me, baby girl. Em and JJ are a totally different story."

"Yeah," Penelope agreed irritably, "They're both so ridiculously in control all the time. There's such a thing as too much impulse control. Those two are never gonna do anything more without a little help, and JJ did ask me for that."

Derek looked around, sweeping the living room and hallway with his eyes, then shaking his head.

"I think this is more than a little. I saw the outfits you put out for them."

Garcia tried to look innocent, but the broad grin that broke out ruined the effect. She went back to her self-appointed task of spreading rose petals down the hallway, hesitating only when she reached the door of Emily's bedroom. She looked between it and the door to JJ's room, unsure which to choose.

"What do you think, Derek?" she called, and he joined her, looking between the two doors as well.

"Might as well do both," he decided, grinning at the instigator of this whole idea, "If they do what you want them to, they might just need 'em. I'll make sure the living room is ready for some action."

The tech giggled, doing as he had suggested.

"Garcia, I thought you liked LaMontagne," he remarked after a few minutes had passed and they had finished their respective tasks, meeting the woman's gaze when she turned to look at him, "so why are you so dead set against him now?"

Penelope looked at him like he had lost his mind, then sighed, apparently realizing he really was wondering, and not just joking with her.

"I liked him back during the 'Jones' case, yeah," she affirmed, then shook her head, her expression becoming fierce and her eyes glittering with tears, "but that was before I knew just how big this thing with those two lovely ladies was. Now Emily's been tortured and nearly killed, and Jayj almost lost her mind. They belong together, and they're so stupid about it!"

The hacker realized she was crying when Derek pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. She buried her face in his chest, more upset than she'd realized by the thought of something going wrong with Emily and JJ's already fragile relationship and ruining the women's chance at happiness.

"I don't like him anymore," she finished almost petulantly, "He can keep his mini-lobster claws off of Emily's woman." *****

Morgan chuckled, holding the large agent a little longer before getting back to work, much more confident in what he was helping to set up. Garcia had a good point, he decided. Emily and JJ had worked to hard and suffered too much for someone like William LaMontagne Jr. to mess it all up for them. The man had already lost to Emily anyway. He couldn't help a small smile as he remembered the punch that had knocked LaMontagne cold in Miami the previous night. They finished the last phase of Garcia's plan just in time. Hotch, as he had promised he would, called them to let them know Prentiss and JJ were nearly home. That, if nothing else, confirmed for him the rightness of what he and the tech oracle had done. If Aaron Hotchner was stepping in to push his team's personal lives along, clearly there was some pushing that needed to be done. They gathered up any evidence that they had been there, other than what needed to be there for the plan, and left, leaving the night to the other two agents. When JJ opened the door and went in, unknowingly missing her colleagues by mere minutes, she had to stop for a moment and absorb the scene in front of her. The living room had been completely rearranged, and a large circle of flower petals filled the center. The light for her stereo proclaimed that it was ready to play the selected CD, the only light in the other room other than flickering candles and a cheery fire in the fireplace. There were two places set at the dining room table, that room also bathed in candle light. Emily, coming in behind her, gasped, and she turned, only then finding the note left on the front table. She picked it up, holding it up to a candle. She could have turned on a regular light, she knew, but she was reluctant to shatter the beautiful scene.

" **Em and JJ,**

**There are outfits for you both on your beds. You should get cleaned up and changed, then eat. You'll need your strength. After that there's a special CD ready just for your dancing pleasure. I heard about how much you two love to dance.**

**Let yourselves relax a little and see where it goes. Enjoy yourselves tonight.**

**Your Fairy Godmother** "

Emily, who had been reading over her shoulder, chuckled lowly, her voice sending a faint shiver down the liaison's spine.

"Bet I can guess who our 'fairy godmother' is," she murmured, apparently oblivious to the younger woman's reaction to the breath on her ear and the warmth of her body, "I suppose we could just ignore it and get some rest."

Something in Jennifer's chest twisted painfully, and she had to fight the instinct to retreat from the nearness of the other woman.

"If that's what you want to do," she replied, hating how her voice shook as she said it. It was strange how much she wanted this to play out the way Garcia had obviously intended when up until now she had always been the one fighting the progress of any physical relationship they might have had. She knew she had asked Penelope for help, but she hadn't expected her friend to go this far. Then again, it was Garcia. She probably should have known.

"On the other hand," Emily started slowly after a long moment, her voice taking on a rich, husky tone as she spoke, "we could take her advice and see where the night goes."

The blonde fought a silent war with herself, torn between a longing so intense it hurt and the ever-present fear that had always made her turn away before now. After that moment in Keira's room and their last night in Miami, however, she realized she'd had more than enough of her fear.

"God, Emily," she whispered, the words wrenched from some deep well of emotion she'd tried to bury as long as she'd known this woman, unconsciously echoing Emily's plea from the night before, "Please don't tease me. Not tonight. I can't take it. I... I want to try this, and what better time are we going to get?"

The profiler let out a long, shaky breath that JJ felt more than heard, and Jennifer was reminded that they were both out of their element here. Of the two of them she was the more familiar with lesbianism and lesbian sex, but that didn't say that much. .

"Let's do it Garcia's way, then," the taller woman agreed, "You shower in your room, and I'll go to mine. Knowing her, we should probably be prepared for something extreme."

JJ nodded, and Emily started to step past her, heading for the candlelit and flower-strewn hall, but she caught the other agent's arm before she had gotten more than a few steps. The dark form turned, and Jennifer felt her heart tearing at the beauty before her. Emily's dark eyes seemed to glow as they reflected the flames, and her raven hair shimmered.

"Jennifer?"

"I love you," the liaison blurted, taking the necessary step to reach the older agent's lips. The profiler trembled against her, Emily's vulnerability somehow pulling at JJ more than usual. It took a massive effort to pull away from the kiss, but she did, determined to experience the whole night and not just skip to the ending.

"Shower, Emily. Then we can eat and... Talk."

Her eyes must have betrayed her, because Emily gave her a knowing smirk, raising a dark eyebrow at her before turning away again. This time Jennifer let her go, waiting until she had closed her bedroom door before going down the hall herself, impressed by the incredibly romantic scene Garcia and probably Derek had left for them to find. In her room, Emily looked at the dress laid out on her bed, smiling slowly. It was a slinky, sleeveless, black silk number, the neck cut low and one side slit to partway up the thigh. As she slipped out of her work suit and into the shower, she grinned to herself at the thought of just how long, or rather how short a time, she planned to be wearing that beautiful and probably very expensive dress.

"You're a genius, Garcia," she muttered to herself as she dried off after her shower and set about dressing and fixing her hair. She blushed a little as she put on the outfit, which fit like a second skin, accentuating and complimenting every curve on her body. Penelope had thought of every detail, including the likelihood of the need for rapid escape from the confines of clothing.

"I can't decide if I'm going to kill her or kiss her."

Shaking her head with a laugh, the brunette slipped out of her room. She could hear Jennifer's shower still running, and decided her partner must have decided to take her time. That was fine with her, at least for the most part. It gave her a chance to get her bearings and brace herself for whatever Garcia had put out for Jennifer to wear. She sighed, choosing a spot in the darkened kitchen entrance to lean her long form, thinking about the drive home with a sensual smile. All Emily remembered was the desire vibrating through her nerves during the seemingly endless drive. They had gotten home safely, true enough, but only barely. Between the speeds they'd traveled at and the way Jennifer's hand had strayed to her thigh... Well. It hadn't been the safest trip she'd ever made. Taking advantage the time she found on her hands, she turned off both her own and Jennifer's cell phones and pagers, and unplugged the phone from the wall, ignoring her body and her intense curiosity for the moment to ensure their privacy. There would be no interruptions tonight. She was done waiting, done being rational and thoughtful and patient. She was going to follow through this time, fear or no fear. Emily was over it, pure and simple. A soft gasp behind her alerted her to Jennifer's presence, and she turned, a gasp of her own escaping. Garcia had picked out a dress in a striking shade of deep red for Jennifer, the color setting off both her tanned skin and crystal blue eyes.

"Oh, Emily..." JJ murmured reverently, crossing the room between them. She started to reach up to touch the brunette's face, but her hand stopped, falling back to her side.

"Jennifer?"

"If I touch you," she explained in response to the oblique question, "I'm not going to be able to stop. Dinner first, then..."

She trailed off with a shrug and a smile that was almost sad, gesturing to the candlelit table. They took their respective places, absorbing the intricacy of the candle placement and the fine setting. Garcia had left them a platter of selected foods, long forks, and a simmering pot of some sort of broth fondue. They took turns sampling everything in silence, neither woman feeling any need to talk and break the spell of quiet longing and anticipation that was building. After what felt like an eternity and mere seconds to the blonde, Emily rose, turning off the burner for the pot before holding out a hand, the shimmering black fabric of her dress clinging to her body as she moved. Jennifer experienced a brief surge of fear, almost losing herself in the sudden terror, but Emily's eyes caught and held hers. As suddenly as the dark wave of emotion had risen, it faded. In its place was the warm knowledge that the stunning woman in front of her was offering her a gift without price. Her hand slid into her partner's, and she rose, feeling as much as seeing the way glittering brown-black eyes watched her move.

"Dance with me, Jennifer."

It wasn't a question, or even a command. It was a prayer and an offering of everything the dark woman had to give, and the fair agent was not stupid enough to refuse. They crossed the room together, blue eyes seeing details in the shadows that had escaped her in the light. She had blinded herself, or had come to take for granted, the elegance and grace of Emily Prentiss, but tonight she saw every angle and curve, all the muscles and softness, the darkness and the light. The brunette pressed play on the CD player, then turned back to her, drawing her into a warm embrace that was a combination of the unique scent of Emily and something subtly spicy. Her thoughts tapered off as soft music filled the room, and she instinctively moved into and with her companion as the profiler took the lead.

_I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight_

_I've never seen you shine so bright_

_I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance_

_They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance_

_I have never seen that dress you're wearing_

_Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes_

_I have been blind_

_[The lady in red is dancing with me_

_Cheek to cheek_

_There's nobody here,_

_It's just you and me,_

_It's where I wanna be_

_But I hardly know_

_This beauty by my side_

_I'll never forget,_

_The way you look tonight]_

_I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight_

_I've never seen you shine so bright_

_You were amazing_

_I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side_

_And when you turned to me and smiled,_

_It took my breath away_

_I have never had such a feeling_

_Such a feeling of complete and utter love,_

_As I do tonight_

_* [Chorus]_

_The way you look tonight_

_I never will forget, the way you look tonight_

_The lady in red_

_The lady in red_

_The lady in red_

_My lady in red (I love you.)_

As the first song trailed off, JJ sighed, lifting her head from where it had come to rest on Emily's shoulder at some point to listen to her partner's soft voice whispering the words in her ear. As the next song began, she smiled slowly, meeting the dark, glowing eyes. This was a song she knew, and one that said so much of what she wanted Emily to know that she had trouble saying. This time it was her turn to sing along, watching tears form in her beloved's eyes as she did.

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathin'_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

_While you're far away and dreaming_

_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_

_I could stay lost in this moment forever_

_Cause every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_

_* [Don't wanna close my eyes_

_I don't wanna fall asleep_

_Cause I'd miss you babe_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing_

_Cause even when I dream of you_

_The sweetest dream will never do_

_I'd still miss you babe_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing]_

_Lying close to you feeling your heart beating_

_And I'm wondering what you're dreaming_

_Wonderin' if it's me you're seeing_

_Then I kiss your eyes_

_And thank God we're together_

_I just want to stay with you in this moment forever_

_Forever and ever_

_* [Chorus]_

_I don't wanna miss one smile_

_I don't wanna miss one kiss_

_I just wanna be with you_

_Right here with you, just like this_

_I just want to hold you close_

_Feel your heart so close to mine_

_And just stay here in this moment_

_For the rest of time Yeah yeah yeah_

_* [Chorus x 2]_

_Don't wanna close my eyes_

_I don't wanna fall asleep_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing_

The dark agent bent down, kissing her sweetly as the song faded out. Emily sighed inwardly as their lips touched, the soft strains of the next song penetrating her awareness and making her smile. This time they ended up singing together, blue and brown-black eyes reflecting the candlelight and each other.

_It's undeniable_

_That we should be together_

_It's unbelievable_

_How I used to say_

_That I'd fall never_

_The basis is need to know_

_If you don't know  Just how I feel_

_Then let me show you now_

_That I'm for real_

_If all things in time_

_Time will reveal_

_*[One_

_You're like a dream come true_

_Two_

_Just wanna be with you_

_Three_

_Girl it's plain to see_

_That you're the only one for me_

_Four_

_Repeat steps one through three_

_Five_

_Make you fall in love with me_

_If ever I believe my work is done_

_Then I start back at one]_

_So incredible_

_The way things work themselves out_

_And all emotional_

_Once you know what its all about, hey_

_And undesirable_

_For us to be apart_

_Never would have made it very far_

_Cause you know that you got the keys to my heart_

_* [Chorus]_

_Say farewell to the dark of night_

_I see the coming of the sun_

_I feel like a little child_

_Whose life has just begun_

_You came and breathed new life_

_Into this lonely heart of mine_

_You threw out the life line_

_just in the nick of time_

_*Chorus_

When the next song started playing, JJ's eyes widened a little, then a slow, sensual smile replaced the startled look. She leaned into the lean body she held, her hand sliding down Emily's side until it rested just inside the slit in her dress. She could feel the soft surface prickle under her touch and heard the soft gasp near her ear that told her the dark woman had been at least as effected by her touch as she could have wished.

_I need to have you next to me in more ways than one_

_And I refuse to leave till I see the mornin' sun_

_The time is right, you hold me tight_

_And love's got me high_

_Please tell me, "Yes" and don't say, "No"_

_Honey, not tonight_

_Move a little close to me, you owe it to yourself_

_And I will selfishly take a little for myself_

_And it's because of you_

_That love won't let me wait_

_Yeah, yeah_

Moving slowly and deliberately as the song continued, Jennifer took a half-step back, drawing her partner toward the fireplace. In front of it, she had noticed earlier, was a pile of blankets and pillows surrounded by rose petals. She could take a hint.

_The time is right, turn down the lights_

_And take my hand, ooh, ooh, yeah_

_We'll take a flight and spend the night_

_In Wonderland_

_And I need to have you next to me in more ways than one_

_And I refuse to leave till I see the mornin' sun_

_Creep through your window pane_

_Because love won't let me wait_

_Not another minute_

_Ooh...ooh...ooh...yeah...yeah..._

_And I need your love so desperately and only you can set me free_

_When I make love to you, we'll explode in ecstasy_

_And I won't take the blame_

_That love won't let me wait_

_Love won't, no, no, no_

_Love won't, no, no, no_

_No, no, no, no_

_(Love won't let me wait)_

The blonde had managed to keep Emily's back to her goal, and now she gently pushed the older woman, who was obviously startled to have her "fall" caught and supported by the soft surface, but what really touched Jennifer was the trust implicit in her allowing the liaison to maneuver and push her to begin with.

_Yeah...yeah..._

_Love won't_

_I said_

_(Love won't let me wait)_

_My baby_

_My temperature's risin', ooh_

_(Love won't let me wait) Won't let me_

_Not another minute_

_(Love won't let me wait) Won't let me_

Again moving slowly, Jennifer kneeled over her almost-lover, reaching back to unzip the soft red dress.

"Jennifer... Let me."

Her hands fell away, replaced by searching gun and pen-calloused fingers. With an expression that could only be described as beatific, Emily slid the zipper down, slowly peeling the cloth down her partner's body. The blonde might have hesitated then, might have given in to a moment of fear, but between the music, the warmth of the nearby fire, and the much more immediate heat of Emily's gaze and touch burned that impulse away before it could even reach her conscious mind.

_Baby, baby_

_(I can't wait) I can't wait (I can't wait) I can't wait, I can't wait (I can't wait)_

_I can't wait, no, no, no, can't wait_

_(Wait) No way, no way, no, no, no, no_

_No way, no way, no, no_

_(Doo...ooh...) Ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...ooh...yeah_

_(Wait) I cant wait not another minute_

_Not another minute (I can't wait, I can't wait) I'll be there (I can't wait) yes, I will_

_I'll be there_

_(Wait) Comin', I'm comin', I'm comin'_

_Hold on, I'm comin', I'm comin', I'm comin'_

_(Ooh...ooh...) I can't wait, can't wait_

_I can't wait, can't wait_

_No way, no way, no way, no, no_

_No, no, no, no_

_(Wait) Ooh...yeah...ooh...ooh..._

_(I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait)_

_(Wait)_

Neither woman was really aware as the song ended, nor did they have any attention for what came on next. As far as either of them knew or cared, the rest of the world had ceased to exist. This wasn't the first time they'd experienced that feeling, but it was the first time their was no chance of an interruption, and both women went into it with no intention or desire to turn back. As Emily drew Jennifer's dress fully off and the attention of her hands, eyes, and mouth focused entirely on exploring and learning the tanned body above hers, the blonde could only surrender and give herself over entirely to her partner's hesitant but tender, loving touch. Her last coherent thought was: 'Oh God... And she thought inexperience was going to be a problem?'

"It's going to hang over us, isn't it?" JJ asked almost inaudibly hours later, sounding as if she wasn't entirely aware she had spoken. Emily knew what she meant immediately. She wanted to deny it, to comfort her partner and tell her that all was forgiven and forgotten, but she knew that would be a lie. She couldn't forget that Will LaMontagne had made love to this woman before she even got to kiss her, and she couldn't forgive the man for that... Or herself. If she were honest, a dark little voice in the back of her mind wanted to lash out at JJ even now, but with an internal sigh she silenced it. She couldn't deal with anger and recrimination in this moment or in this room. There had been enough fear and doubt here to last several lifetimes.

"It might," she agreed aloud, not lifting her head from where it rested on her companion's shoulder, "but I don't want to deal with that right now. Not here. I... I just want to enjoy this. I want to celebrate the fact that you love me, and that we finally...  _finally_... made this step. All right?"

JJ agreed, but Emily smiled wryly to herself, knowing it wasn't that simple. Jennifer Jareau was nothing if not complex, and the liaison would carry the guilt of what happened for a long time. Nothing Emily could say or do could make her feel worse than she would on her own. It certainly didn't placate that little nagging voice, but again she ignored it. If she had learned anything in her lifetime it was that things like this festered if left alone, and as much as she didn't want to, if they didn't talk about it the incident  _would_  haunt them both, possibly for the rest of their relationship, and she really did just want to get on with their lives. She didn't know if that was entirely possible just yet, but she still hoped.

"Jennifer," she murmured, finally looking up and meeting the patient but guilt-laden blue gaze, "I don't want to think about it. I don't want to face the fact that you ran to Will instead of me when you were confused, but I have to. And honestly, it's more important to me that you came back to me and let... made this happen. I don't want to think about him touching you in places I've only dreamed of until now. I hated him for it, but now I know he doesn't have more of you than I do. You made this happen, Jennifer, and regardless of what happens tomorrow or any day after that, I have this moment with you."

The blonde head ducked away, but not before she saw the fear and pain that marred Jennifer's face. She sighed inwardly, shaking her head. There was no way to have this conversation without hurting them both, she knew, is why she'd wanted to avoid it. Avoidance was what had caused the whole mess, though, and she was tired of it. Still, they had better things to do tonight. Sex, she knew, wasn't going to magically get rid of the problems, doubts, and fears between them, but she had wanted Jennifer for so long and now she finally had the chance to be with the blonde woman. She wasn't about to lose the progress they'd made or let the mood of the night shift to one of sadness or recrimination. Instead she very deliberately sought out an area of Jennifer's neck she'd discovered was extremely sensitive and first kissed, then nipped at it. The blonde's body shivered, and she grinned. Standing, Emily held out her hand, which the blonde took with a slightly glazed expression. She guided her lover to her own bedroom, closing the door behind them, closing the door against the outside world. In the rest of the house the fire and candles sputtered and went out, and a brilliant sunrise began to lighten the velvety sky, but for the residents of the house nothing existed except the moment and each other.

**Date and Time: December 25, 2007, 00:02**

**Location: Penelope Garcia's Apartment**

"Merry Christmas!"

Garcia cheered as the camera flashed, immortalizing the moment. She grinned as she checked the image, finding the smiling faces of her family looking back at her, drinks raised in a toast. The group of profilers laughed at her enthusiasm, but the general mood of cheerful celebration persisted. Even Hotch and Rossi were smiling as they watched the antics of their younger colleagues, and Penelope was rather proud of that. Once the picture was taken Reid had already dragged a bemused but tolerant JJ and slightly drunk Derek aside to quiz them about some parody christmas carol currently blaring from her stereo, and Emily was looking on with an affectionate smile, sipping a glass of champagne. Normally the tech goddess would have been upset to see anyone alone at one of her parties, but the sweet calm of the dark agent's face was too precious to disturb. Instead she covertly snapped another picture, promising herself she'd give a copy to JJ, who collected pictures of the team in general and of Emily in particular with a passion bordering on obsession.

"But why would anyone-"

"Kid," Morgan broke in, shaking his head to forestall some outburst of Spencer's, "You're thinking about it too much. It's funny 'cause you're not supposed to think about it."

Reid gave the taller man a doubtful look, but Morgan just grinned, patting his shoulder before strolling over toward Emily. Penelope intercepted him before he could reach her, gently pulling him aside.

"Is it just my imagination, hot stuff, or has Emily been watching our Miss Jareau all night?"

He turned and examined the quiet woman, using the same intense stare he focused on UnSubs, victims and witnesses.

"She has been," he agreed after a long moment, "but then, she always is. I'd feel sorry for anyone who tried to stop her. And I'm not sure JJ knows how much it matters to Emily that she invited her."

Garcia chuckled, nudging him gently.

"And they don't even know, do they?"

Derek hugged her with his free arm, grinning and trying to hide it from the blonde and brunette they were watching.

"What, that you put JJ up to it and I talked Em into it before she could chicken out?"

The tech goddess laughed, leaning into his affectionate embrace. They watched JJ approach the watching brunette and say a few words, flash a smile, and that was all it took to draw Emily out and get her laughing along with her friend. Somehow JJ had her glass in hand and set aside a few minutes later, and the two were laughing themselves almost to tears as the liaison showed her dark companion some silly dance moves Garcia had taught the blonde years ago. Watching the two made her smile, and she looked up to find Derek grinning as he looked between them and her.

"I'll tell you what, baby girl," he observed in a soft voice, "The work it took to get those two to get here and loosen up some was totally worth it. They only smile like that when they're together. Sure, they have fun separately, but they're as a pair there's something special there."

"That's all I'm saying," Penelope agreed, then winked hugely at him and jumped in to join her friends. Derek laughed as the three women teamed up on Reid, dragging him through the motions of Garcia's goofy "reindeer dance". When he was released the genius retreated to the relative safety of Hotch and Rossi's corner, where the older men were barely restraining their amusement at the somewhat shell-shocked look on his face. Derek took his cue from his "partner in crime" and sidled over to the dancing women, joining their happy circle. It was one of the best Christmas's he could remember, and he thanked the God he was slowly learning to have faith in again for this second family and keeping them all safe enough for them to be there that night. So much could and did go wrong in their line of work, but there they all were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used in this chapter are, in order of appearance: Almost Lover by A Fine Frenzy, Jump then Fall by Taylor Swift, Open Arms by Journey, Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh, Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith, Back at One by Brian McKnight, and Love Won't Let Me Wait by Luther Vandross. 
> 
> This is a very music oriented chapter, I know, but I love music and have always believed that music is great for expressing emotion, especially for those people and situations where saying what one feels is too difficult. I've been told this is too sappy, cliche, or unrealistic. Cliches are what they are because they have some truth in them, I'm a sap and a romantic, and this is in fact something people do, so... yeah. If you don't like it, cool, but it happens. Hell, it would work on me.


	14. Anticipation

 

  
_**Anticipation**_ : To look forward to, especially with pleasure; expect

**Date and Time: Unknown**   
**Location: Unknown**

_JJ passed through the door Will was holding open, barely managing to keep from glaring at him at best or punching punching him in his damned smug face at worst. She couldn't accept his proposal, something that had been the subject of their long "conversation". He had played the 'a child should have two parents' card, and then the 'I'm the father, and I'd really love to have a part in raising our baby' argument, but she had countered both. Her pregnancy was the result of an accident, and while that was no fault of the child's there was no "our" involved, at least not between her and Will. As for having two parents, it would have her and Emily... provided the older woman hadn't been pushed too far, too hard, and too fast. It was entirely too possible, and since she hadn't seen her partner since she and Will had left to talk and Emily had gone to visit Cooper, she had no way of knowing. The look on the brunette's face when the detective had made his damned proclamation in front of the team with that shit-eating grin had verged on betrayal and had only darkened when she hadn't refuted or refused the proposal._

_"Will, shut up," she warned harshly, breaking into his most recent argument for how wonderful things could be with them and the baby together with a look of cold disdain, "How many times do I have to tell you no before it gets through the rock you call a brain? I thought I had made this clear before, but I'll tell you one last time: Emily is my partner, my lover, and my closest friend. Even if any of that changed I wouldn't get into a relationship with you, much less marry you."_

_"Prentiss disappeared right after you told your team," he argued in his slow drawl, giving her one of those damn superior looks, "What makes you think she won't just bail on you?"_

_JJ stared at him, then closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them again. Just as she did he bent and kissed her, taking her off guard for a second. As soon as she realized what was happening she shoved him away, her hands curling into fists and her blue eyes dark with rage._

_"Try that again and I swear you're going to get something broken, you son of a bitch. Get your sorry, stubborn ass back to New Orleans. You don't get it and you have no idea what you're talking about."_

_"JJ! You saw how she acted! She abandoned you! She'll just walk out on you ag-" he started, but her last nerve had been trampled on a few times too many. She slammed her fist into his face, taking some guilty pleasure in watching the blood fly. It worried her a little that the only thing she regretted was not breaking his nose, but then she just decided she didn't care._

_"Go to hell,," she spat, shoving past him to the black SUV waiting for her. He tried to get her to roll the window down once she was inside, to which she laughed bitterly. He barely got back in time as she pulled out of the spot in front of the hotel, and a part of her wished he hadn't._

JJ shifted restlessly, the memory even more disturbing now than it had been the first time around. Time passed, though how much was impossible to know, not that it mattered. Nothing mattered.

_A barrage of sound and light hit her as sirens and flashing lights raced past and her cell phone started screaming. She snatched the thing out of its cradle, her brain identifying the caller without needing any input from her._

_"Garcia? What's going on?"_

_"JJ! Thank God! Are you okay?"_

_"What's going on, Garcia?" the blonde asked, shivering as her body turned cold with mixed terror and sick certainty, "I'm fine, I just left the hotel. What happened?"_

_"One of our SUVS just blew up, Jayj," came the frightening answer, "We lost visual, though, so we don't know who was in it. Rossi and Morgan are on their way in, but we haven't been able to reach Emily, Hotch, or Reid yet."_

_Jennifer swallowed against the bile trying to come out, pulling off the road with a sharp jerk, her heart feeling as if it were being slowly crushed by ice._

_"Give me a minute, Pen," she murmured in response to her friend's semi-frantic questions, "I'll come in with the guys. Keep trying. I'm on my way."_

_She hung up, staring at her shaking hands and the phone in one of them. Instinct had her calling Emily's cell, but all she got was ringing. It didn't even go to voicemail._

_"God damn it, Em, where the hell are you?"_

_JJ gripped the steering wheel as hard as she could, taking some gasping breaths so she wouldn't pass out and then got back on the road. The short drive to the office was a complete blur and as she rushed to where Rossi, Derek, and thankfully Spence had gathered, part of her noted that she didn't remember how she'd gotten there or how much time had passed._

_"Any news?"_

_Rossi shook his head, looking as haggard as she had ever seen him._

_"We still can't reach Hotch or Prentiss. We do know emergency teams were dispatched, but..."_

_"They won't go in, will they?" she realized, her voice hoarse with the strain of keeping herself under control, "We told them not to."_

_Derek nodded slowly, then grabbed her arm as she swayed on her feet, her mind torturing her with an image of a bleeding, burnt Emily in the road with no chance of help reaching her._

_"JJ!"_

_Blue eyes blinked slowly as they met Morgan's brown, but the former athlete reacted to the horror written across her face like a physical blow. He started to say something, scared for the liaison, but out of the corner of her eye JJ saw Reid look up and across the room and followed his gaze to where Kate Joyner and their unit chief were hurrying over, yellow-brown eyes running over all of them, probably counting who was there, then fell on JJ, tracing the hand he had around one arm and the paleness of her skin. That gaze stayed locked on his press liaison as he rapidly closed the distance between them, putting his own steadying hand on her shoulder. Morgan let go of the pregnant woman, stepping back to where Rossi was growling into his phone while still watching his colleagues._

_"We're going to go get her some help, JJ," Hotch assured the blonde, but Jennifer was sharply reminded of the way she'd felt when Samis had been taunting her about killing Emily, only this was much worse. She knew what she'd be losing._

_"What...?"_

_"Kate and I are going to go out there," Hotchner repeated patiently, "we'll get her to a hospital and patched up."_

_She gave him a blank stare, then her eyes slid past him to a screen on another wall. A torn apart, flaming black SUV could be seen a distance from the camera, and she could see police and blockades between help and the burned, bleeding figure that had been thrown from it._

_"Emily, no..." she whispered, her throat constricting until she could barely breathe. It was her worst fear writ large on the big screen. Her partner made a weak attempt to cry for help or drag herself to the barricade, but her body wouldn't cooperate. She fell back to the pavement, completely limp and motionless now._

_"She isn't breathing," the liaison gasped as the camera focused in to give the watchers a better view, "She isn't..."_

_Despite the grip her boss had on her she collapsed, falling to her knees and hands, shaking violently and blinded by tears._

_"Emily... EMILY, **NO**!"_

_But no matter how she prayed for that image to change, her lover didn't move and didn't breathe._

_Emily was dead. She was dead and she hadn't known that Jennifer never would have left her. She had died alone and abandoned, and it was her fault._

_" **EMILY**!"_

_JJ gagged, almost choking as she threw up, then toppled over and passed out, her world changing from color to shades of gray, and then to black. She didn't care. The person that was her light was gone and she just wanted that darkness to devour her too._

"NO!  **EMILY, NO!** "

JJ jerked up so violently she fell off the bed, hitting her head on a corner of the nightstand. She stayed down on the floor, ignoring the blood running down one side of her face, or more accurately unaware of bleeding. The nightmare image of her Emily seemed to have been seared into her brain and behind her eyelids, so there was no escape from it. She had woken up alone in bed with the space next to her cold and undisturbed, giving her nothing with which to fight back against the sickening images, choking on acid that was trying to come up and out. After a few minutes she heard knocking at her hotel room door, but she couldn't do anything except curl herself into a tighter ball and just fight to keep from screaming, blacking out, throwing up, or all three.

"JJ?"

It was Garcia's voice, some part of her mind recognized, but at the moment all that mattered was who the voice didn't belong to. She heard soft voices outside the room, then the distinctive sound of the door unlocking. The blonde cringed back against the little wooden stand, not wanting to look up and not see her partner safe and whole. Garcia's voice came closer, but she didn't open her eyes or acknowledge her friend's worried questions. A male's deeper voice asked a question from the doorway, was answered, then heavy footsteps were running away from the entrance to her room. JJ didn't care. She stayed right where she was, only vaguely aware of the rapidly cooling blood soaking into her sleeve where her head rested on forearms drawn against her chest and crossed over her knees. Derek, meanwhile, was bolting down the hall

"Shit," Derek muttered, haunted by the single look he'd taken at JJ. He didn't know what was going on in her head, but he could guess, at least in part, and he would need help if he were going to help her. He wanted to go wake Hotch, but the unit chief was pretty banged up and extremely exhausted. He couldn't bring himself to wake him, even for this. Instead he went further down the hall, pounding on the door of Rossi's room. The Italian opened the door almost immediately, looking exhausted and run down. He obviously hadn't been asleep, but he wasn't glaring or snapping, so he must have understood that something big was going on.

"Agent Morgan?"

"It's JJ," he blurted, "She had some kind of nightmare or flashback, we're not sure. She's almost catatonic. Garcia is with her but-"

"Get back there, Morgan," Rossi ordered, and for a minute Derek thought he was going to close the door in his face or demand to know what the younger agent thought he could do, but he did neither of those things. He left his door open as he retreated back into the room, taking only long enough to grab his coat off a chair and hurrying to join his teammate in the hall.

"Try to keep her grounded," he continued, leading the way back to JJ's room, "I have a bad feeling about this if she gets any worse."

Dave glanced inside the darkened room, assessing the situation as calmly as he could, but he wasn't immune to the effect of the bleak, hopeless despair on the liaison's face.

"If we lose her we'll have to take her to the hospital," he explained, already turning away and throwing his jacket around himself, "That isn't what she needs. Even if all you can do is keep her like that, fine. I'll be back as soon as possible."

The dark agent watched him rush down the hall and ducked into the stairs rather than take the elevator, which was oddly reassuring. He wasn't wasting any time because they just could afford to.

**Time: 03:44**   
**Location: Redeye Cafe, Manhattan**

_"I've asked JJ to marry me."_

_"Will!"_

_"We're working out some kinks."_

As the words that had been on repeat in her mind cycled again, bringing the image of the smug, condescending look Will had turned on her with it, Emily shook her head, leaning against the frame of the window she was staring out of. Jennifer hadn't said she wasn't considering Will's proposal, and she hadn't said what she planned on doing when the baby was born. That wouldn't have been such a problem on its own, but the blonde had gone back to the hotel with Will and hadn't said much of anything to Emily since her revelation earlier. She shook her head again, trying not to feel the fear, jealousy, and almost-betrayal that had started building when JJ hadn't actually denied or refused Will's proposal. She hadn't looked the dark profiler in the eye since the New Orleans native had arrived, but that could just be embarrassment.

_Right, Emily, and tomorrow all the terrorists in the world will set their evil ways and weapons aside, join hands, and dance in fields of flowers and sunshine while singing songs about love and peace._

It almost made her laugh, but the ridiculous image couldn't quite break through her melancholy and fear. Even if the worst happened she wasn't about to abandon Jennifer, but she needed time to brace herself against the possibility of the choice being taken out of her hands. Dark eyes narrowed at the thought of William LaMontagne Jr. and that cocky, mocking look he'd given her. She caught the look reflected in the glass and turned away from it, staring at her laptop screen instead. She had planned on working on her case report, but she hadn't written more than a couple sentences in the last two hours. This was the problem with interdepartmental relationships, and she was honest enough to admit she could understand the concerns and regulations. She couldn't function like this. If another case came up before she got a grip on herself she would have to back out, if only for a little bit. The brunette could usually count on her mind to push these kind of feelings to the back of her mind until she could deal, but Keira had been right.

_'I don't know if it's possible to stop loving someone. I think that feeling is always there, it just gets pushed into the background unless something brings it back up.'_

Memories of the shattered writer bubbled up into her conscious mind, something that happened sometimes, usually when things with Jennifer weren't very certain. She reached into her laptop case, pulling out the writer's photo keychain, which came on to the picture of Shamira embracing a grinning Keira. She had kept it in her bag since then, occasionally taking it out when she found herself looking back on that day. Tonight she remembered how Keira had looked when she'd told them how Shamira had died.

_'Are you going to be all right?'_

The breakdown that had followed those words was as vivid now as it had been then. The unspoken answer had been no. she was never going to be all right again, and then she was dead. Another memory surfaced, this one echoing through her mind like the haunting refrain of a sad song.

_'You have to understand, she told me she loved me, and I never said it back.'_

Keira had died with a smile on her face. She had thought it was all worth it, and in the end her beloved had come for her. That hole in her, the regret of knowing what she hadn't said and should have, had been filled. Her problem, though, was different. Jennifer knew she loved her, so why did that suddenly seem so important? Why were those particular memories coming up now? Why did it feel like one of them was making the mistake that had broken Keira's spirit and heart?

"Prentiss!"

Emily looked up from her aborted attempt at work and the picture in her hand, surprised to see Rossi rushing toward her, his expression as close to panic as she'd ever seen.

"Jennifer."

She rose without thinking, her hands packing her laptop on auto-pilot while her eyes bored into Rossi's. The keychain was tucked away safely, as it always was, but with no conscious intent on her part.

"What happened to Jennifer?"

If the Italian was surprised by how quickly she'd understood without him saying anything, he didn't show it. He picked her phone up off the table, glancing at it once before tossing it in her computer bag, which she slung over her shoulder as she followed him out at a near-run.

"Your phone's battery died, Emily," David pointed out, her face telling him she hadn't known and that she understood why it mattered, "She had some kind of nightmare, or something. None of us are sure. Garcia and Morgan are with her, but she was going into shock when I left. They might have had to call an ambulance already, but I hope not."

"Me too," she agreed quietly, the quick pace making her voice a bit unsteady, not that it mattered, "She needs me far more than a damn ER. If she's that bad off, bringing her to an emergency room is just going to bring up some very bad memories."

Dave glanced over at her as they both started up the hotel stairs, taking them two at a time.

"You know, I hadn't thought of that," he remarked thoughtfully, ignoring the stitch in his side caused by the unexpected workout, "I just thought of her being alone or restrained, not to mention medicated and then admitted. I hadn't thought of the ER itself."

Emily didn't waste her breath responding. The image of a catatonic Jennifer isolated in a hospital psych ward made her feel sick, and that was almost as bad as the image of her lover trapped in her head reliving the many times she had been in ER's along with whatever had gotten to her in the first place. She hit the door to their floor at a dead run, easily pulling ahead of the stockier, older agent. Inside the hotel room, JJ sunk into the building and increasingly welcome darkness. The only break in the nothingness her mind had become that never-ending cycle of Emily struggling and dying, struggling and dying, over and over. She wanted the nothingness to take her, wanted anything that would make it stop, would make Emily stop dying. The blonde was vaguely aware of pain and shadows around her, but none of it was real. Only Emily was real, and she couldn't get to her. She couldn't save her, couldn't even tell her she loved her, that she'd never leave her.

"Jennifer."

She knew that voice and looked up through the darkness to where her partner lay dying. She hadn't heard that voice in so long... so long... and now she never would again.

"Jennifer, look at me."

She blinked, and for the first time in eternity the scene changed. Emily was still burnt and bloody and dying, but she was also next to her, holding her, warm and whole and alive.

"Look at me," the phantom repeated, and she slowly turned, afraid the specter would disappear if she did, but Emily was still there, patiently waiting for her. She hesitantly brought her hand up to touch the familiar features, pleasantly startled by the brush of a kiss against her fingertips as they passed over soft lips.

"I... Are you... Am I just... Emily?"

Everything came back to that one word, but the older woman understood.

"Come with me and find out."

JJ looked over her shoulder at her nightmare, her reality wavering, and with it the phantom Emily at her side.

" **No**! Don't leave me! Don't leave me again! Don't leave me alone!"

"Open your eyes, love," that haunting voice urged, even as the owner of that voice faded from view, "Open your eyes, Jennifer. Let go of the nightmare. I need you out here, sweetheart. I need you."

Confused, the blonde blinked, trying to do what Emily was asking of her but not sure how. Her eyes were open, weren't they? Warmth penetrated her diffused awareness, seemingly wrapping her in a soft blanket, but the blanket was moving? A sound reached her then, a rapid, pulsing sound that seemed to come from the warmth holding her, and for some reason the sound pulled her, anchored her. Her world slowly narrowed and focused until she was feeling a throbbing pain in her head that didn't match the sound she was hearing. The comparison made her realize what the sound reminded her of, and hoped flared. She was hearing a heart beating, a strong heart that was beating faster than it should have been, but it wasn't the sound of a life fading away.

"Your heart..."

Now she could feel the chest housing that heart, could feel and hear breaths being drawn in and out, and that, combined with the steadily calming heartbeat, pulled her out of her nightmare and into a dream. Her eyes opened and looked up, right into a pair of very dark eyes very close to her.

"You're here."

"I am," Emily's voice answered, the sound washing over her like a warm shower. Without looking away from those eyes she reached up with one shaking hand, tracing the familiar face, almost gasping at the heat she felt when the brunette lightly kissed her fingertips as they passed, just as she had before.

"God... I thought..."

"I know. It's all right now, Jennifer. I've got you."

The blonde suddenly lunged forward, kissing her lover so hard she almost knocked her over. As it was Emily caught her, holding on just as tightly. Garcia didn't need to see more than that to know they all needed to leave.

"Okay, boys," she started, already pushing at the two men, "They need some private time."

Emily was absently grateful, but most of her attention was focused on the much more immediate need, and as Jennifer's hands started to undress her she stopped thinking about anything other than the affirmation of life and love. An exhausted but contented JJ woke up later, feeling the other woman's hands tracing patterns along her belly.

"It's hard to believe there's a life growing in there," she commented thoughtfully, happy to relax and enjoy the contact and the love that came with it, "I mean, I've considered kids before, but I wasn't expecting this."

"JJ..."

She cringed, hating the sound of those two letters. She knew her partner was trying to come to terms with everything, and at the same time she was bracing herself for loss and pain. As much as she didn't want to think about it or admit it, she knew Emily had every right to pull back into herself, distancing herself from the blonde.

"Emily, listen to me," she commanded gently, turning so she could look into dark, uncertain eyes, "I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to marry Will. That was never even a remote possibility, Em. Never. I'll tell you what I told him when he kept going on about how a child needs two parents: if you're willing, I couldn't imagine a better parent for my baby."

Emily frowned, but she could tell it wasn't because the older woman was going to reject the idea out of hand. She was processing, and she knew she had to give her time. She had needed something Emily had given her freely to fight her way out of the hell of her nightmare reality, and now she needed to return the favor.

"He might have a point," the profiler observed softly, sounding and looking pained even as she said it, "I mean... The baby is his, there's no question about that. He's the baby's father-"

"Em, for all the difference the biology makes he might as well have been a sperm donor," the blonde broke in wryly, enjoying the laughter that followed, "He is not this baby's father, we're not going to split weekends or shuttle it or us back and forth, he's not moving to Virginia, I'm not moving to Louisiana, and I almost broke his nose trying to get that through his thick skull."

"You  _what_?"

She grinned, seeing the guilty pleasure under the surprise.

"He wouldn't let up, and..."

Jennifer stopped, closing her eyes as she remembered everything, including what had led up to her nightmare.

"JJ?"

"He kept trying to convince me you were just going to bail and that I couldn't rely on you, but I could trust him to always be there for me and the baby. I almost hit him the first time he said something like that. I tried the whole 'close your eyes and count to ten' thing, but he took advantage and kissed me. I warned him off, but he just kept going on about you and I lost it. I wish I had broken his nose, Emily. I wanted to run him over for being part of the reason you had that look on your face when you left."

"Let me guess... You were dreaming about that, and then..."

Blue eyes closed against the tears that were trying to fall, their owner shaking with remembered fear and grief.

"An SUV blew. Garcia called me in a panic and I drove back to the office. Rossi and Derek had gotten there first, and Spencer was there before me, but no one could find you or Hotch. I had tried calling you, but it wouldn't stop ringing, then the report came up on the TV and it was you out there. You looked so... God, Emily... You tried to get to help, but we had told them not to go in. I watched you die. I watched you stop breathing. You were... There was so much blood, and the burns... And the SUV was totally torn apart. Hotch and Kate came. They... They promised they would get to you, would get you help, but you died. It was too late and you died and... and..."

Strong arms pulled her closer, a hand guiding her head back to where she could hear that strong heart beating. She took a few long breaths, just soaking in that sound, then went on, not moving this time. She needed to be where she was to talk about this. She needed to know Emily was alive, and was going to stay that way.

"I think I might have woken up. I'm not really sure. I remember my head hurting and Garcia's voice, but none of it seemed real. I don't know what happened. All I knew was that you kept dying in front of me, and I couldn't get to you. I couldn't help you, and I couldn't even tell you how much I love you, how important you are to me. I tried so hard, but I couldn't and you kept dying and I wanted to die too, because I didn't want to face living without you, especially after knowing you had died thinking I might leave you. I just... If you were gone..."

"Jennifer, I know."

Her heart sped up and a rush of heat passed through her at the sound of her name. She was Emily's Jennifer again. She wasn't JJ the friend, JJ the lost, Will's JJ. She was Jennifer again.

"I love you."

The liaison sighed contentedly, letting Emily's unconscious tracings relax her, letting her sleep. The profiler smiled as she watched the younger agent drift off, only then realizing what her hand was doing but seeing no reason to stop. Despite the adrenaline crash and the lack of sleep she couldn't drift off herself, the train of thought that had started at the coffee place picking up again. Holding her lover's naked body against hers had eased some of the urgency of the questions, but hadn't answered them. It didn't make any sense. The air had been cleared, at least as much as could be expected, anyway, but her mind had returned to contemplating that sad refrain. She had Jennifer and the assurance that their relationship wasn't over or seriously undermined by Will's stubbornness, and there was no doubting the love and lust between them, so what was her problem?

"I can take care of you, Jennifer," she murmured, as much for her own sake as the other woman's, "I have no problem with that, and we'll figure the rest out over time. Even if I'm not ready when your baby is born I'll stand by you, and I would try if you left me for Will or anything else. What am I missing? What are we missing?"

Her mind continued to work through the problem, but it wasn't until she could see the sun starting to rise through the hotel room drapes that she had at least a partial answer. By then she was so exhausted her eyes were watering and her body felt like it was made of logs, and everything seemed kind of funny, but she still couldn't fall asleep. In the relatively lucid part of her mind she laughed at herself, knowing she wouldn't have come up with an answer if she had been more awake.

"God, I'm such an idiot."

"Only when you think like that," JJ's voice answered tiredly, startling Emily out of a few years of her life. Blue eyes met hers, their owner greeting her with a mock-scolding glare.

"You're beautiful and brilliant, Emily, and I love you even when you are being an idiot, so stop muttering already."

"Crap, I'm sorry Jennifer. Did I wake you up? I didn't know I was saying anything."

The blonde shook her head before letting it drop back to her lover's shoulder, one hand coming up to play with the dark hair that had fallen across Emily's face. She hadn't been woken up by the profiler's muttering. She'd started to wake up a little while ago and had just let herself drift rather than making any effort to get up or open her eyes. When Emily had started talking to herself she had felt it rather than heard it, and she still had no idea what her partner had been saying or thinking about, but she knew her friend's moods. Emily was exhausted to say the least, and she'd been stressed about something all night if she were any judge, and not just her, her nightmare, and her and Will.

"Em, it's fine. I've been awake for a bit, I was just too comfortable to do anything about it. What's kept you up all night after the last few days we've had? No offense, sweetheart, but you look like hell."

The dark agent chuckled, but JJ lifted herself up on one arm, seeing the slightly hysterical cast in her lover's face that she'd heard in her voice. Sleep deprivation would account for some of it, but there was more going on, and she was stuck in something of a dilemma. She could get Em her meds and talk her into a relaxing shower and massage, she could try to persuade her partner to tell her what was going on, or she could work on getting them the hell out of this damn city. She hadn't been particularly fond of Manhattan before this case, but now she could honestly say she passionately hated the place. Kate Joyner was dead, Hotch had nearly been killed, Morgan had almost been killed getting that ambulance somewhere safe, Garcia would probably be terrified for all of them, particularly Derek, for weeks, Reid and Rossi were stressed and exhausted in the extreme, and Emily...

"I wish Will had been in that SUV."

The profiler laughed helplessly, but as she'd thought the borderline hysteria was still there and probably would until they were home and they could get the dirt from this city off and out of them. She wasn't sure if it was safe for Hotch to fly, but she knew they had to get out of here, all of them. None of them would start to mend here, and she was also aware of herself to know she desperately wanted, or rather needed, to just be with Emily in the safety of their home with the company of each other and the loving, playful creatures waiting for them. JJ had, as she'd told her partner, grown up around dogs, but it'd been so long since she'd had a pet she'd forgotten just how much it helped to have animals around. Adopting Keira's dogs may have been one of the smartest things she'd done in a long time. She felt herself smiling at the thought of the smart and sometimes rowdy canines, and Emily gave her a quizzical look. She just chuckled, kissing her companion's cheek before pushing herself completely upright. She hadn't thought anything of it, but as the blanket pooled at her waist already dark eyes dilated, making them look completely black. Jennifer forced herself not to start laughing as she very deliberately stretched before getting up, running her hands through her hair to get it in some kind of order. The whole time she watched Emily out of the corner of her eye, grinning to herself as she watched the other woman watch her. JJ had been in relationships before, and she'd been with men who'd given her similar looks, but they had never affected her the way those dark eyes did.

"I think I'm going to take a shower. I had something of a workout last night, after all. You interested in-"

Emily growled, twisting out of the bed and grabbing her for a fiercely possessive, loving kiss before tugging the very willing and very amused blonde into the bathroom. Two doors down the hall Hotch was easing himself to his feet, letting Dave steady him only because he knew his former mentor understood how it felt to lose his equilibrium due to an ear injury from firsthand experience. He was fine once he was upright, if a little light-headed and dizzy, it was just getting there that was hard.

"Vertigo's a bitch, huh?"

"Huh," he grunted, not really feeling like going to the effort of a longer answer. Rossi chuckled quietly and slapped him on the shoulder before following the younger man out of the room and down to the lobby, though the elevator ride made his head pound and spin. David didn't say anything then or during the trip to Federal Plaza. He hesitated after getting out of the SUV, looking around. It had been long enough that Kate's blood and the vehicle debris were completely gone, leaving almost no evidence of what had happened here. Hotch realized he was staring at the spot he had found himself in after the explosion, his mind readily supplying the details.

"Hotch," the Italian's voice called, making him turn away and look at the other agent, "We need to wrap things up here. I told you about what happened with JJ last night, and you know that kind of thing will keep happening the longer we're here. We've done our part. Time to go home."

Aaron nodded, sighing tiredly and going through the door Rossi held open for him. Most of what they needed to do was routine, but the discussion about Morgan potentially taking Kate's place shook him up. It wasn't as if he hadn't known, but every time he heard it a part of him winced, not wanting to think about why the position was open and who had filled it before.

"Are you going to talk to him about it?" Dave asked as they were leaving several hours later, both men drained and ready to be gone, "Or are you just going to tell him and have him say yes or no?"

"I'm not sure yet," he admitted quietly, closing his eyes after buckling himself into the passenger's seat for the short drive back to the hotel, "I almost want to just let the Bureau handle it, but I need him to understand the significance behind what he did. I think I'll leave it until after we're all back in Quantico. I'd talk to him on the flight, but..."

"I get it. I'm happy enough to be leaving to actually look forward to getting on that damn plane."

That got a laugh out of the Unit Chief, relieving some of the tension that'd been building in his body and mind. Once everyone was informed and taking care of whatever loose ends they might have here he pulled JJ aside after seeing the way she'd looked after Emily had left to talk to Agent Cooper. The brunette hadn't really looked much better, but the press liaison had drawn into herself since her partner had left and he was worried about her. She was an intelligent, rational, and hardened (if sometimes jaded) federal agent, so the nightmare she'd had the night before must have been extremely potent and vivid to overwhelm her so completely. He didn't want her being left alone, particularly if Prentiss was gone, but he also needed to get a few issues cleared up.

"I'm not marrying Will," she assured him before he could ask anything, her bloodshot blue eyes meeting his with impressive force, "I'm not leaving the BAU, Emily, or whatever else."

"Good," he answered quietly when she was done, "Have you and Prentiss cleared that up?"

She paled, ducking behind her hair.

"Yes... At least for the moment. It's just one more big pile of crap to get through, right?"

He frowned, his concern for the woman increasing rapidly. She sounded angry and bitter, and more than a little ashamed. It would be pointless to say the whole situation with Will and the baby wasn't her fault, in no small part because it wouldn't be true. Still, he did think she was taking on more than her share of the blame, and he could guess why it was just getting worse. Will LaMontagne. The man just wouldn't let up, and he seemed oblivious to the strain it was putting on JJ. Even if she hadn't been in a relationship with Emily the detective would still be pushing at cracks in the liaison's defenses, but with the situation as it was LaMontagne was putting an intolerable amount of stress on the younger agent. He had known that was the case before this case, but Dave's description of what had happened the previous night told him it was worse than he'd thought. JJ's pregnancy would be leaving her more sensitive and with fewer reserves than usual, a connection she didn't seem to have made yet, but she would.

"JJ-"

He stiffened at the sight of the figure scanning the lobby, shifting so he was between him and his agent. Will looked rather the worse for wear, he noticed in passing. The detective must have been drinking the night before and hadn't gotten much sleep, but he had no sympathy for the headache the New Orleans native had to have.

"JJ," he started again, knowing JJ hadn't really registered the hesitation or movement an worrying because of it, "You and Emily have gotten this far together, and we're all behind both of you. I know you're both getting individual, outside help too, but if there's anything I can do for either of you, I'd like to know."

"Thanks, Hotch," Jennifer murmured, meeting her boss's intense gaze, "I can't think of any one thing, but..."

She hesitated then, but he just waited. He could see her mind working the way it did when she was trying to come up with a tactful way to ask or say something.

"You were with Haley when she was pregnant with Jack. I've been around pregnant women and newborns, you know that, but now that it's me I... I don't know what to do. It's not like I can call my mom and ask her anything... I just don't know who to go to or what to ask if I knew."

Aaron smiled slowly, feeling very much the father talking about his first grandchild. The thought made him feel rather old, but it also helped him put things in perspective. Right now he wasn't the Unit Chief talking to his press liaison, and he needed to act accordingly. JJ didn't need her boss. She needed a father figure, and her own would be no help. Actually, he would more than likely make things even harder for the young woman, but Hotch knew he could step into that role without undermining his authority as JJ's boss. He had done it before, and he had and would do it for the rest of his team, except Rossi of course.

"When we get back you and I can talk in more detail, but for now the most important thing you can do is stay healthy. Let Prentiss help you when you need it, and remember that she will want you to ask her. You know about fetal alcohol syndrome and similar illnesses, so you know what to avoid as far as consumption. Other than that you need to try to keep your stress levels down and make sure you're getting a lot of nutrients. This is your first pregnancy, and that's usually the hardest on the person and on the body."

He paused to think, then put a reassuring hand on JJ's shoulder, making sure he had her attention and held it until her face relaxed into an almost shy smile.

"Thanks Hotch."

The older profiler nodded, checking to make sure LaMontagne wasn't still around before sending her to meet the rest of the team at the jet. He smiled when he saw that Emily had returned and was waiting for her partner outside. They didn't hug or kiss or do anything ostentatious, though he would have bet serious money that they wanted to, but to anyone paying attention their posture and the looks passing between them practically screamed love and devotion. The sight reminded him why he was willing to sacrifice as much as he would for them. What they had was painfully rare, and they were both so fragile in their own ways. That served as another reminder and he turned, searching the lobby and the area outside until he found the distinctive form of the hungover detective and crossed over to him, giving him a fierce glare. Will was startled to find the BAU chief standing in front of him, but he was more shaken by how much the man resembled an angry bird of prey.

"Uh... Have you seen-"

"Detective LaMontagne," the agent broke in as Will had half expected him to, cementing the knowledge that he had no allies among the BAU, "You are walking a very fine line, and I suggest you exercise some discretion."

"Um, what would that line be, sir?"

That hawk's glare became more intense, making him feel unpleasantly helpless and exposed.

"You are essentially stalking a federal agent, Detective. If you continue to do so I will have you arrested and help JJ and Prentiss get a restraining order against you. If I hear that you've made further attempts to pursue Agent Jareau without her invitation you risk losing your badge as well. I'm hoping I've been clear enough to not need to repeat this conversation yet again."

"Agent Hotchner, I'm that baby's daddy!"

"And JJ has made her decision regarding that. If you want to address the issue you're welcome to go through the courts, but whatever you choose to do, you aren't to contact JJ unless she does so first, and you already know what will happen if you 'just happen to be in the area' again."

Will waited, wondering if more was coming. Again the agent surprised him by softening somewhat, giving him a much more understanding look.

"Detective, I'm a father. My wife... My ex-wife has custody of our son and I have to go through her if I want to see or talk to him. I could get more rights, I suppose, but I don't want to drag either of them through a legal battle. That doesn't mean I love Jack any less or that I'm not his father. It just means I recognize that some fights are better not started."

"What are you telling me here? That I should just give up?"

"I'm telling you that you need to respect JJ's wishes. She is the one carrying that baby, and it's her mind and body that are going to be taking the abuse."

"But I'd help out!" the younger man argued, hoping that he might have finally found someone in the BAU who might understand what was going on and might be willing to at least reach some kind of compromise. He hated admitting it, but the thought the that Prentiss woman with JJ and possibly raising his baby made him see red. When Hotchner shook his head, he knew he had lost, even though the agent supposedly knew what he was going through.

"Agent Jareau doesn't want your help, Will," Hotchner replied, though not unkindly, "that's her decision and her right. She elected to put herself and the baby in the care of her partner, and frankly I think that's the best course she could have taken. Emily knows her much better than you do, they live together, and they trust each other implicitly. Why does it keep surprising you when JJ chooses her over you?"

The New Orleans native muttered some response, but from the look he was getting the Unit Chief had seen his anger at the mention of Prentiss and her relationship with the liaison.

"You know where you stand, Detective. I'm not going to warn you again. You aren't going to win here, and your jealousy does you no credit. Go home, do your job, and if you're going to insist on a custody battle, fine, just leave them alone until the courts say you can do otherwise."

"Jealousy isn't-"

Hotchner's glare darkened and he took a step closer to him, his anger so intense Will almost expected to be hit at any moment. He couldn't hold the older man's stare and looked away, knowing he'd lost any ground he might have gained and about another mile. He backed away, feeling that predator's gaze following him and didn't turn around even after he'd gotten in his rental and was gone. He knew the agent could and would have him arrested, and given he was a former prosecutor Will knew that could only lead to more trouble than he could get himself out of. Now he had to decide if he was willing to get into a legal battle with him and JJ. Aaron, watching him drive off, already knew what the detective would do. For now he would run with his tail tucked. It would take him a while to get his nerve up to do anything, much less start legal proceedings, and he would talk to the women before Will could do so. He had actually been considering urging JJ to let the father of her baby have at least partial custody, but after talking to him there was no chance. The detective's blind hate for Prentiss and his inability to control himself had ruined any sympathy Hotch might have had. He wasn't the kind of father Aaron was willing to see raising JJ's baby, even on a part-time basis. She trusted him, and he wasn't going to betray that trust over something as stupid as Will LaMontagne.

**Date and Time: February 3, 2008, 18:22**   
**Location: FBI Field Office, Morgantown, West Virginia**

"JJ?"

The blonde looked up from the notes and file she had been working on, a little surprised to see Hotch standing there. He had been planning on going over the interviews Prentiss and Morgan had been out doing, but neither agent was with him. The thought made her look at her boss's face more closely, seeing the strain and anger there.

"What happened? Are Morgan and Emily okay?"

The Unit Chief shook his head, slowly sitting down in a chair across from her. He suddenly looked years older, though she and Rossi might be the only ones who knew him well enough to see it.

"JJ, Prentiss disappeared while she and Morgan were conducting on-site interviews. When Morgan realized she hadn't met him or called when she was supposed to, he got worried and went looking. He found her badge, gun, and cell phone partially hidden under a trash bin a few blocks from where he had been. It looks like she may have kicked them under there, and you know she would only do that for one reason."

Jennifer stared at him, trying to make the words process.

"But... Derek was right there. No one should have been able to..."

Hotch's eyes didn't leave hers, keeping her where she was even though what she really wanted to do was bolt out and find her friend, which was probably why he wasn't letting her go.

"Morgan admitted he got... distracted. He didn't actually realize she was missing until almost an hour after the time they'd agreed to meet at, and she would have been long gone by then. We have Rossi and Morgan out with a K9 team, but we're not hopeful they'll find anything."

"She fits the profile of the victims," the liaison realized out loud, staring at her boss with growing horror, "A high-profile, female ambassador's daughter, beautiful, intelligent, and professional... This guy has..."

She stopped herself, narrowing her eyes as something occurred to her.

"The UnSub has never taken more than one woman at a time, but we know another woman is missing. That's why we're here. So did he grab Emily by chance? That would mean he'd have to know who she was and what she looked like. Was it a spur of the moment thing?"

"I don't think so, no," Aaron admitted, knowing JJ's mind had taken the same path his own had, "This isn't the kind of person who does things at random or on a whim. If he were we wouldn't be needed to help catch him. He would have made mistakes. He didn't just grab her. He must have planned this, otherwise Prentiss wouldn't have had a chance to get her hardware where we found it, and that wasn't a random drop or coincidence. That was intentional. He may have seen her here or found out where she was. I think she may have been a target of opportunity, but..."

"But he had time to plan how he would take her and he was almost as careful as he has been every other time. How would he have known? We've only been here a couple days!"

The Unit Chief waited, seeing the wheels spinning behind blue eyes. She sometimes made connections the rest of the team didn't, and right now he would take absolutely any help. Agent Prentiss was an invaluable member of his team and a person he respected greatly, and JJ probably knew her better than anyone. She might know something that could help them.

"We hadn't... Hotch, we looked at the girls and the ambassadors, looking for links. There were too many to pinpoint any one as critical or outstanding. We need to go back to that list. We can rule out diplomatic and political issues and connections, as well as any foreign involvement. This guy is way too organized and he doesn't take risks, so this was personal. This is someone who knows Ambassador Prentiss well and who knows Emily. He would be someone the ambassador trusts, but a friend, not a colleague. She doesn't trust anyone in her field, not completely. None of them do. I guess it's a job hazard."

"Go on, JJ," her boss urged, pulling her back from the tangent and the concern for her friend that could distract her from what he needed her to be doing, "Why a friend? Why not a colleague, rival, or enemy of some sort? These women spend most of their time abroad and much of that in potentially hostile situations. We all know they have plenty of enemies."

"Because he knew where all of them were, Hotch. There's no sign he stalked or watched them. He knew exactly where they would be and apparently how to gain control over them without much if any sign of struggle. A family friend could approach them and they would think nothing of it, just a strange coincidence. A rival or political opponent would have to work harder at finding and grabbing them."

"Okay, I see your point. Keep going."

JJ closed her eyes, forcing herself not to think of the bodies that had been found so far and putting Emily in their place. If she let those thoughts in she would be worse than useless in the search, and that would drive her insane.

"He knew exactly where to look without having to look. What if he had been over for dinner or at a gathering and someone on the staff or the ambassadors mentioned their daughters in passing? We know Ambassador Prentiss has been vocal about getting Emily to change career tracks. She knew where we were going because she had wanted Emily to come to some party thing. Em said her mother had been mad about her not going..."

All the color had drained out of the liaison's face when Hotch had broken the news, but now she was flushed and her eyes were on fire.

"Her being grabbed had  _nothing_  to do with her being an agent, Hotch. He went after her because of her mother. He knew she was coming here on business and since he was already here, it must have seemed like the perfect chance. If he took the risk to grab a second woman and this is personal, then we need to be looking at Ambassador Prentiss specifically."

"That's a lot to work through, JJ," the profiler turned out, but not as a rejection of her conclusions. It was just a statement of fact.

"We won't get any help from the Ambassador, so we're going to have to do this the hard way. It's going to take time, and in the meantime..."

Raging eyes turned on him, the only break in the professional mask JJ had snapped across her features. Though worried about the integrity and objectivity of his team, he knew the woman across from him would be one of his best weapons in the fight to get the UnSub and, God willing, somehow get Prentiss back alive. He knew the price of that detachment and knew he would be paying it too, but it was the only thing between them and a deadly loss of focus.

"Alive or dead, we're going to find her," the young woman said flatly, her voice becoming an icy monotone, "And whatever happens, we will find him and he will go down. She will fight to give us time and we're wasting it. I will  _not_  waste Emily's life."

The older agent nodded, digging the information they had gathered on the ambassadors and their daughters out of the files while JJ went to the whiteboard, erasing everything and taking the various pictures and pieces of information they'd put on the wall down, all except the geographic profile, and talking to Garcia at the same time. When Rossi, Reid, and Morgan got back the liaison and Unit Chief had piles of information organized for everyone to start working from, piles that continued to grow as Garcia faxed what she didn't send to their laptops. Rossi had brought coffee and sandwiches back with him, all of which were consumed with no thought or attention. JJ had been completely right in her description of the passing time: it was Emily's life, not minutes or seconds or hours, and they all knew it. Time was their enemy and they had no way to know how much Prentiss had. Her survival was completely dependent on her ability to delay and withstand the torture the UnSub would put her through. Hotch had no doubt all of them were pleading with deities known and unknown, and to Emily to hold on a little longer.

_**terminus pendeo super exordium** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there's a sequel. Sort of. There's one, maybe two chapters of it written. I could post it, but I haven't worked on it in a long time. Enough interest could get me to go back to it, but I could also just leave the story where it is. It's up to the readers, really.


End file.
